


Saints Without A Cause (Rough Cut)

by hiiimaugust



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), Fall Out Boy, Halsey (Musician), My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Basically The Universe As I Imagine It When I Listen To The Album, Depression, Dysfunctional Family, Dystopia, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hackers, Illness, Insecurity, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Misgendering, NOT THE COMIC OR VIDEO UNIVERSE, Religion, Rescue Mission, Resurrection, Survival, anger issues, implied ace/aro character, improper binding, involuntary medicated character, irresponsible tattooing, it takes a couple chapters for the other characters to show, low-key lyric references, poor medical practices, probably out of character, rated for language, reference to a suicide attempt, secretly related characters, the phrase 'sand-covered burrito' is used, these two are basically massive tropes, this universe has a piss poor judicial system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:50:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 24,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiiimaugust/pseuds/hiiimaugust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Part 1</b>:When a secretive unofficial Killjoy encounters a hopeless, half-dead Battery City defector out in the dunes of Zone 2, they become reluctant friends. At first they simply survive but a series of choices throw them head first into the  between Better Living Industries and the rebellion. Learning to be an adult is hard but it's even harder when you're wanted for treason.</p><p>Part 2 starts at Chapter 15</p><p>
  <b>
    <span class="u">UNFINISHED ABANDONED ROUGH DRAFT</span>
  </b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hell of a Ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [loadedduncomplex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loadedduncomplex/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Beyond The End (Book One): The Rise And Fall Of Camp Youngblood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5101853) by [Starora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starora/pseuds/Starora). 



> I don't know a lot about the Danger Days/Killjoys universe so this based off a mixture of headcanons and other fan fiction. I've never written "real people" fiction before and I'm mildly ashamed. Rated for swearing. Unbetaed, basically free-wrote. Love, agstmcmlln

Ruby Graves woke up with a boot on her chest and a blaster pointed at her head. For excitement, it beat out the last couple mornings. Living out of her quickly empting bag out in the Zones wasn't even scary. It was more sad and pathetic.

"What are you doing here?" The person behind the boot and blaster demanded in a gruff voice.

"Waiting to die." Ruby couldn't tell if she was joking or not. The past couple day had been weird.

"Don't try to be funny." The boot put more pressure on her chest.

"Do you mind? You're squishing my boobs." Ruby tried to sit up. "I'm unarmed, I swear."

"I know. Your blaster was in your bag. Hard as hell to raid. Where'd you get something with so many secret pockets?"

"I made it." Ruby looked around her, trying to shut down the panic in her head. There had to be something she could fight back with. A rock. Where was that clever brain Better Living Industries kept worshipping her for?

"You don't look like you sew."

"Yeah, I'm full of surprises. If you're going to shoot me, fucking get on with it."

"I'm not going to kill you until you tell me why you picked this particular camping spot."

"I got tired of walking and stopped for the night."

"You really had no idea I live here?"

"Nope." So that's what that structure in the distance was.

The pressure lifted as the boot lifted off her chest. A small hand appeared and pulled her to her feet. It belonged to an equally small figure with blue hair. They were covered in freckles. Also, Ruby had a good five or six inches and a good 20 pounds on them.

Ruby supposed that, judging by how small they were, they had to be a girl. A teenage girl. But that voice didn't sound like it belonged to a girl.

"If you're trying to figure out my gender, stop," they commanded.

"Sorry?" Ruby offered.

"Come on," they ordered, slinging Ruby's bag over their shoulder. "I live this way. You look like you need a shower."

Ruby could hardly believe the residence in question had a shower. It had probably been a one-story house at some point but it was nearly in ruins now. The person pushed her into what was indeed a bathroom. "Don't use all my soap."

The water was, surprisingly, cold. Ruby had expected it to be hot, or at least lukewarm. She washed her mass of hair twice. Leaving what remained of her sweat-stained blouse in the sink, she walked out to join them in the main living space.

They looked Ruby up and down and threw something at her. "You are not allowed to walk around in just a bra. It's indecent."

Ruby caught the plain grey tank top and and slid it on. The fit was a little tight but not uncomfortable.

"My name is Little Alien. If that's too much of a mouthful, you can call me Alien. If you're smart, you won't tell whatever your name is."

"Um." Ruby squatted in front the pile of stuff Little Alien had looted from her back. The sheer lack of organization irked her. "I'd appreciate it if you respected my stuff," she said. "How am I supposed to find my comb and hair ties in this mess?"

Little Alien rifled through the pile and offered Ruby a comb and hair tie. "It would be easier if you let me saw it off with my pocket knife."

With practiced ease, Ruby detangled her hair and pulled into a tight bun. Then she snatched the bag from Alien and started repacking it. Alien kept a firm hand on both blasters. Shame. The blaster pocket and been the most difficult to sew. She had to both conceal it and make it easy to draw. She left half of her meager food supplies out too. 

"I mean no offense," she said as she folded a blanket. "But you aren't a KillJoy I've heard of."

"Oh, well, you're not exactly a KillJoy expert."

"I was, until a week ago, one of the top SCARECROW recruits."

The blaster--hers this time--was pointed at her head. Again. "You're fucking with me, right?"

"I could knock you out before you could get a shot off, Alien. And no, I'm not kidding." Ruby shuddered. "Do you want to know why I quit?"

"What's your redemption story?"

"They kidnapped a kid and killed four KillJoys. A fucking kid watched the people who probably protected her her entire life die."

The hand holding the blaster wobbled. "Where you there?" It sounded like Alien was about to cry.

"No. I'm--I was still a trainee. That's not the type of operation they let trainees in on. I found out a couple hours later."

"I admired those men."

Ruby kept organizing and packing, hoping to control the shaking in her hands. "I think I would have admired them too. If I was a different person."

The blaster got set down. Ruby quickly picked it up and slid it into its pocket.

"I don't encounter the proper KillJoys very often," Alien admitted. "But they don't treat me any differently for being on my own or young. Missile Kid and Mad-Gear help me sometimes."

Ruby kept working. She located the rest of hair ties and finished packing the food she decided to keep with her. "Thanks for the shower. I hope the food's a fair trade. I'll get going." She stood abs slung the bag across her body. She supposed it was time to start sleeping with it on her person.

Alien grabbed her wrist. "You're staying."

"Excuse me?"

"SCARECROW trainee or not, I'm not going to be responsible for some Battery City twit dying. It would be a fucking insult to the Fab Four's memory. Especially since you left because of them. Sit your ass down."

Ruby sat down. This was going to be one hell of a ride.


	2. Better Make It A Good One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tried to upload this chapter six times today and I keep finding teeny tiny errors. I mean they're super smol, like smaller than Little Alien smol, but they were bugging the fuck out of me
> 
> Anywhos, I was listening to Death of a Bachelor on repeat as I wrote this. Enjoy--agstmcmlln

For a SCARECROW in training, Little Alien's new roommate was a heavy sleeper. Yesterday morning, Alien had managed to steal the (very high tech) blanket right off her. Today, they had managed to get dressed, heat up some beans for breakfast, and purposefully make a fair bit of noise without waking the young woman with the mass of hair.

"Oi, Pockets!" they yelled, nudging the woman in the side. "Wake up!"

She groaned and opened her eyes. "What did you call me?"

"Pockets. It's not like you can tell me your real name. That wretched bag of yours has so many pockets, it seemed to fit."

"True."

Alien watched as Pockets tamed her hair again, this time in a painfully neat braid. Alien cringed in sympathy. "Why?" they muttered.

Pockets looked up from whatever she was doing with her bag. "What was that?"

Alien made a motion around their head.

Pockets let out a brief chuckle and shook her head.

Alien shrugged. "Fine, just don't sleep too close to me. I don't want the thing that lives in your hair to strangle me. Eat some beans. We gotta go meet someone."

Alien expected Pockets to at least be somewhat phased by the old man that dealt in hair dye and tattoos. Instead, she stared at him like he was the greatest thing she'd ever seen.

"Want one?"

"Yes."

"No, she doesn't. She's broke. Just get me my dye, Larry so we can get back to work."

"I'll do it free of charge. For art's sake. You're a blank canvas, my young friend."

Alien crossed their arms. "You've never offered me free ink. And I said 'she's not interested'." Of course Larry would offer. Pockets' eyes were practically shining. "Trust me, Pockets. It's insane. It's permanent and there's a risk of infection. Your Battery City immune system isn't up to it."

Pockets started rolling up her sleeve. "Is that a challenge?"

"When you have to have your arm chopped off, I'm leaving you outside to die and keeping your bag."

"What do you want, kid?" Larry asked. He pulled up a stool for Pockets to sit on.

"Something simple, small. Do whatever you want, really. I'm not picky."

Pockets didn't blink or flinch during the entire tattoo. When Alien decided to ask her why, she smiled. "Pain, like things, can be compartmentalised. This isn't life threatening so I turned it off." 

Alien decided never to cross Pockets. The interest and calm on her face was fucking unnatural. They mumbled an insult.

Pockets raised an eyebrow. "Whatever you say, Alien."

Tattoo finished and hair dye obtained, the duo left the shop. "What the hell is that thing supposed to be anyway?" Alien asked, poking the swollen line drawing.

"An artist's representation of the planet Saturn. I think." Pockets winched. "That, Alien, is threatening pain. Do it again, and you'll be running."

Alien pulled their hand away. "If you didn't want me to touch it, you should have said so."

Pockets sighed and rolled her sleeve down. "I could explain the concepts of personal space and consent but I'd rather keep my temper in check."

They walked in silence for awhile, until a thug approached them. "Hey, girlie," he said, clapping Little Alien on the shoulder. "Need any extra carbons?"

Alien hissed, pulled their blaster, and stepped away. "I said I wasn't interested." Every couple days, the thug made the same offer. Usually, Alien made a run for it but he was blocking what amounted to their only way home.

Pockets, in yet another bit of puzzling behaviour, seemed more focused on Alien's blaster than anything. "How didn't I notice?" the young woman muttered.

The thug turned to her. "You interested in a little fun? I'll pay you." Alien didn't know if the city girl would catch the innuendo. 

Pockets stepped into the space between Alien and the thug. The flash of expression on her was impossible for Alien to read. "Hey," Alien said, letting the blaster fall to their side.

In a flash, Pockets punched him the gut and then kicked his legs out from under him. She put her foot on a rather sensitive part of him. "If I hear about you making unwanted offers like that to anyone again, you're going to fucking regret it." Then she spit on the ground by his head. "And no one calls my friend a girl. Are we crystal, sir?"

The thug nodded."Yeah. I'm reading you loud and clear." 

"We're going to walk away now." Pockets calmly removed her foot. "I suggest you stay down until we're out of sight. Let's go, Alien. Walk in front of me."

Alien, hands shaking, started leading the way home. At one point, Pockets gently touched her shoulder. "Slow down, Alien, and put your blaster away. He's upright and still in my line of sight."

Alien put their gun in a pocket of their pants but couldn't bring themselves to slow their steps.

"Breathe deeply, Alien."

When they got home, Alien spoke. "So, do you that a lot?" They tried to keep their tone light and casual. 

Pockets was carefully cleaning her tattoo as she answered, "I'm not particularly fond of bullies. And, hey, if you're going to start a fight, you better throw the first punch, and make it a good one. Drink some water. You'll feel better."

They silently agreed not to mention it and go about their day as if it hadn't happened. Alien was relieved. Pockets was still both intimidating and weird. However, it was easier knowing they were in agreement about not talking about the fact that Pockets could down a man in less than a minute.

Hopefully, Pockets would never have to do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter is dusted folks.


	3. Now We're Stressed Out (Okay, Mostly Just Pockets)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the "Inspired By" comes in. Yeah, I'm stealing Beyond The End's names for people and maybe a little bit of plot. (I really want to see at least Pockets interact with the Fab Four but I already established that they're dead).
> 
> I slept and then proof read this chapter. It's technically the first one I wrote because loadedduncomplex, who is the inspiration for Alien, and I are Twenty One Pilots fans. This scene just had to happen.
> 
> I have most of the plot arch written out in 'word vomit' format so stick around. The only thing I don't know is how it ends.

It took every once of Ruby's--she really ought to start thinking of herself as Pockets--will power to wake up before Alien the next day. She kept quiet, lost in her thoughts.

When she left Battery City, she hadn't intended to befriend a young wannabe Killjoy. She didn't know what she intended to do but bunking with Alien wasn't it. Unfortunately, the decision to stay came with a pretty major bit of responsibility.

She had to help Alien stay alive.

It wasn't that Alien wasn't good at surviving. They were apparently good at scavenging and taking advantage of situations. They were skeptical, cautious, and good at staying under the radar. They approached human interaction in a way that struck Ruby as world weary. She had no idea how long they'd been living like this. It was a testament to their raw skills that they had survived up to this point.

It was that they had no idea how to handle that blaster of theirs. She should have noticed it earlier but it hadn't been clear until they were in a conflict situation. They had the potential to kill someone on accident. For some reason, Ruby couldn't bare the thought of Alien becoming a killer of any sort, let alone an accidental one.

Yeah, she was turning into a massive sap. She'd deal with that later.

Right now, she needed to figure out how to teach Alien Blaster 101 without bruising their ego.

"You're awake?" Alien woke up, voice cracking awkwardly.

"Yes." Ruby busied herself by double checking her bag. "Do we need to scavenge or buy anything today? I'm a little rusty with my blaster. Target practice seems like a good idea."

"You're rusty at something?" Alien sounded surprised.

"Well, it's either that or I go for a run. I could barely keep with you yesterday. Are you game?"

Alien seemed to consider it for a second. "That depends. Are you going to be constantly doing something else at the same time?"

"Blasters are fucking dangerous. I'll be perfectly focused. But first, breakfast." Ruby stood up. "Canned beans or reconstituted freeze-dried soup?"

They decided to do their target practice within sight of the house. It made Ruby slightly uncomfortable. If they got caught, anyone with half a brain could made a connection and raid the place. Luckily for them, a fair number of Ruby's former co-workers were dumb fucks.

Ruby had barely gotten her second test shot off when Alien asked the question that turned the conversation in the direction Ruby wanted it to go.

"Why is your grip different?"

Ruby put the safety on and returned it to it's pocket. "Do you mean the grip on the blaster or the way I hold it?"

"Both, I guess." Alien shrugged. "I figured it was just because you were fucking weird but I wasn't sure."

Ruby laughed. "Alien, I'm left-handed. It's unusual but perfectly respectable. My blaster is designed so I can operate both the trigger and safety with my left hand."

"The safety?"

Oh, god. They were more clueless than she thought. "Yes. May I?" She wanted to reach out for it but decided against it. Alien had a tight, albeit one handed, grip on it. p>

Alien handed their weapon over, visibly uncomfortable without it.

Normal blasters weren't foreign to Pockets. She could operate one in a pinch but she handled it with more care than she would her own. Especially once she realised she couldn't find the safety. The only thing were the safety should have been was smooth painted metal. "Fuck."

"Is something wrong with my blaster?" Alien asked nervously.

Handling it like a live grenade, Ruby handed the blaster back to Alien. "It appears that your blaster doesn't have a safety."

"Is it the little lever you have to pull before you pull the trigger?"

"Yes." Ruby took a deep breath. She did not like where this was going.

Alien shrugged. "I removed it and rewired the blaster to fire without it. Don't worry. I didn't break anything. I borrowed Mad-Gear's tools."

It took every calming exercise she knew for Ruby to keep from going off on Alien. It was fucking stupid of them but from the sounds it, they didn't know. Ruby internally counted to ten--both forward and backward--several times before opening her mouth.

Only for what she was going to say to be cut off by an excited squeal.

"Missile Kid!" Before that moment, Ruby would have guessed Alien was a late bloomer but they turned down right feminine in front of the Killjoys approaching them. Even their voice changed. "Mad-Gear! Hi! What are you doing this close to Battery City?"

"Hey, E.T." The one Ruby's knowledge identified as Missile Kid pulled the small person into a hug.

Mad-Gear spoke next. "Benzedrine hadn't heard from you in awhile so he asked us to check on you."

"Everything's fine." Alien assured, continuing to soften. "I've been showing this newbie the ropes. Pockets, this is Missile Kid and Mad-Gear."

"It's nice to meet you." Pockets offered.

The conversation between the three turned to how life in general was going, both at the main camp and Alien's little "outpost". While Mad-Gear seemed to be the more talkative of the two, Alien focused on Missile Kid.

Ruby had a hypothesis to test.

She slowly undid her braid, and dug through her bag for her comb and a different hair elastic. She pretended not to know where they were, despite being able to find anything and everything in her bag with her eyes closed.

Alien didn't bat an eyelash at Ruby's free hair.

Mad-Gear noticed. "You okay?" he asked gently.

"Aha!" Ruby exclaimed for dramatic effect. She pulled the comb out. "Got it." She pulled up her hair as slowly as she could stand. "All good. You were saying?"

The conversation died out slowly. The duos separated, Mad-Gear and Missile Kid disappearing to wherever they came from, and Ruby and Alien returning to Alien's house.

"When the hell did you change your hair?" Alien asked as what Ruby deemed 'the crush fog' faded.

"While you were looking at Missile Kid like you'd gone without water for days and he was the only reliable water source within a day's journey."

"You make it sound like I have a crush on him." Alien sounded gruff and grumpy again.

"Do you?"

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Ruby started preparing dinner. She hadn't smiled for an extended period of time since she started her training. It felt great.

"Like you were trained to read people."

Ruby chuckled. "That, Alien, would be like asking me not to breathe."


	4. Repress and Relapse Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And look, a wild Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III appeared! (Yes, I'm fangirling over my own story. Not sorry.)
> 
> In all seriousness, this chapter isn't as light as the others. Both Alien and Pockets are messed up. There's also a POV switch. I hope you enjoy anyway.

Although Alien wouldn't admit it to her face, they liked Pockets. It felt nice to have another human in the room. They had a family once, shared a room with a sister. It wasn't exactly the same. Alien's little sister probably would have never learned to kill a man with her bare hands. Still, there was something comforting in having the woman sleeping between Alien and the door.

Yeah, they knew Pockets had arranged her sleeping spot like that on purpose. They just elected not to mention it. It was cute and made it so they didn't accidentally step on her hair on the way to the bathroom.

Quietly getting to the bathroom was important to Alien. They didn't trust Pockets enough to take their binder off in front of them. Ever since that second morning, Alien had no idea who was going to wake up first. After a month, was starting to take a toll. They hadn't developed pneumonia yet but binding was starting to hurt.

A gentle knock on the bathroom door broke them out of their thoughts. "Hey, Alien. You alright in there? I'm sure Larry won't care if we're late but it is a bit of a walk."

Alien dressed quickly. They'd have to ask Pockets about the turning off pain thing. "Why do you want another tattoo anyway? And how'd that first one heal so fast?"

Larry had approached during their last supply run, offering Pockets another tattoo. For beating up Kyle the Thug of all things. "Man-child had it coming," he had explained gruffly.

"Maybe it's my Battery City immune system." Pockets ruffled Alien's hair. "You don't have to come with me, you know. You can hang out here or go target practice."

"It's safer to travel in pairs."

"Can't argue with that."

As they walked out of Larry's back room, they were greeted by a Killjoy, Sandman of the Suithearts. "Oh, hey, Sandman," Alien chirped. "This is Pockets."

"I know. Can I borrow her for a second? Innocent conversation, I promise."

"Sure." Alien shrugged.

\-------------------------------------------

Fuck.

Pockets couldn't hide the tension spreading through her shoulders. "What is this about?"

Sandman put a hand on her upper arm. "Nothing bad. And from I heard, you can handle yourself." He herded her away from Alien, until they were out of both ear and eye shot. "Agent-In-Training Ruby Graves, isn't it?"

"They know. I haven't hidden my past from them, Mr. Wentz." Pockets crossed her arms. They were about the same size so taking him down would be tricky but maybe she could talk it out. "Since we're using birth names."

"What they don't know is that you've replaced the Fab Four at the top of SCARECROW'S most wanted list."

"What?" Pockets whispered. That was crazy. Yes, she had used some illegal means to leave but it wasn't that bad.

"Not on the public list. It's a top-level security memo. Finding you is strictly in-house. To the outside world, you're on medical leave. Broken foot."

"How'd you get access to an in-house memo?" Pockets rubbed her eyes. "Wait, don't tell me."

"Mad-Gear," they said in unison.

"Right, the world-class self-taught computer hacker." Pockets sighed. "How fucking soft am I getting?"

Sandman looked sympathetic. "Look, I have to ask. How much danger is Little Alien in by hanging out with you?"

"Well, instead of filing the exit paperwork like a normal person, I drugged my roommate and repelled down the side of the trainees' dormitory. Did she die?"

"No," Sandman replied slowly. "That's impressive but why?"

"I was ordered to undergo a mental health assessment." Pockets closed their eyes. "In the mental state I was in, I would have failed."

"They would have kicked you out?" Of course he didn't know. 

Pockets shook her head. "I, most likely, was already considered a prime candidate for biochemical reprogramming."

"They do that." Not question.

Pockets exhaled slowly. "It's dangerous but yes. A drugged lower-level agent is better than a high-ranking one with suicidal ideations and sympathies for the other side."

"Are you okay, now?" Sandman asked. "I've been there. It's fucking hell."

"I'm fine. I better go." Pockets adjusted her hold on her bag. They were going to run this out. 

"You can't leave Alien. It will destroy them."

Pockets started walking. "I know," she called over her shoulder. "Hopefully, I don't get them killed."

\-------------------------------------------

Alien noticed something was off when Pockets came home around. She was drenched in sweat and short of breath. Her eyes looked sad and her hair was in a messy bun. "What?"

"How was your conversation with Sandman?"

"Who?" She blinked a couple of times, the sadness fading. "Right, sorry. My brain was still in work out mode."

"What did he want?" Alien probed. Pockets hadn't gotten sad eyes after running before. It wasn't a side effect of the work out. It couldn't be. Either Sandman said something or something while she was running. "It was just a conversation, right? You didn't have to beat him up or anything?"

"Ew. He's probably old enough to be your father, A. Don't be disgusting." Pockets chuckled. "He wanted to make sure we weren't going to kill each other."

Alien snorted and threw a pack of mixed nuts at her. "Here, I can't eat these. What did he really want?"

Pockets ignored the question and headed for the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower so my stink doesn't make dinner taste worse. What are we having?"

"I traded around for some potato flakes and flavour-less protein powder."

"Finally, not beans." The door closed behind the older. "I'm sick of smelling your farts!" She yelled through the door.

"Whatever!"

Alien knew what was wrong wasn't any of their business. Pockets didn't pry into their life, after all. It was tempting., though. Sandman must have said something to upset her. But what? The only things that seemed to bug Pockets were bullies.

Oh, well. The potatoes weren't going to reconstitute themselves.


	5. Two Black Eyes From Caring Too Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know the miracle serum thing has already been done but I wanted them in here. So, um, don't sue me. Please.

If Alien wasn't going to mention Pockets sudden slip into melancholy, Pockets wasn't going to mention that she knew Alien was ill. The coughing started a few days after the conversation with Sandman and hadn't let up. Alien stopped sprinting and spent more and more time hiding in the bathroom.

The one time Pockets tried to ask what was wrong, Alien shot a small hole in the bathroom door.

The most Pockets could do was feed them and trade on her own for supplies. Only, Pockets' temper made it difficult to trade without someone coming out the negotiations with an injury. She came out of the last one with two black eyes and what she hoped was antibiotics.

"Knock, knock."

Pockets picked up her blaster and opened the front door just enough to look out. She held the blaster loosely behind her back. "Yes?"

"Hey. We thought we'd tell Alien the good news in person."

The two men standing in doorway weren't supposed to be there. Pockets had seen the pictures and the news footage. Fuck, the trainees had the next day off as celebration. She pulled open the door the rest of the way and pulled the safety on her blaster. "You're supposed to be dead," she growled.

"BLI miracle serum," Party Poison explained. "Where's Alien?"

"I don't see how you think you can rise like some religious figure of old and demand to know where my roommate is. It's my responsibility to keep them safe."

"They're not okay, are they?" Kobra Kid whispered.

Pockets hadn't noticed her grip on the blaster was shaky. She put the safety back on and slid it back into her bag. "They're in the bathtub. Something's wrong. Pneumonia, I think. It started with a cough and now there's a fever."

"Can we come in?" Party Poison asked gently.

Pockets stepped aside, letting the two near-mythical figures inside the small living space. "I think these are antibiotics. Can one of you get them to take them? I keep getting shot at."

Kobra Kid took the bag and brushed past Pockets.

Party Poison sat cross legged on the floor. He patted the floor beside him. "So, who are you and what's your story?"

Pockets raised an eyebrow. "Really? I thought my story would be public knowledge by now. I left Battery City 56 days ago."

"The Suithearts told us it was personal. Sandman hinted that your life was in danger."

Pockets couldn't decide if that was a pleasant surprise or a bad one. Sandman keeping her secrets wasn't something she deserved. "Isn't everyone's now days?" Pockets snorted.

\---------------------------------------

Alien thought they were dead or at least seeing things. Why else would Kobra Kid be leaning over the side of the tub with a water bottle and a pill?

"Hey, Little. The scary girl outside says you have pneumonia."

"Pockets is about as scary as Kyle the Thug." Alien's laugh quickly turned into a cough. "Sorry."

Kobra's very real hand brushed their forehead. "You've said no before but you can come back with us."

"To where, the fucking afterlife?" they coughed. "I can't take Pockets with me. She'd follow along fast enough but I don't want either of us to die."

Kobra Kid shook his head. "Pockets can come along. No one's going to bar her from Camp. If you want her there, we'll bring her."

"She won't go." Alien coughed. "She'll think it's risky, because of who she is."

"And who is that?"

Alien stared at the ceiling for at least a minute before answering. "I don't fucking know," they admitted. "And I don't think she knows either."

\---------------------------------------

Party Poison jumped up when Kobra Kid came out of the bathroom. The younger Way sibling was half-supporting half-carrying a pale shaking Alien. "They've agreed to come to camp to recover but they have a condition."

"Fuck, A." Pockets knew exactly what the (probably) younger roommate wanted. "You do know that's fucking dangerous, right?" The _you know I'm dangerous_ was implied. 

"What can you possibly do?" Alien asked weakly. 

Pockets had a long list of . She wasn't likely to return to SCARECROW willingly but if she got caught, the location of Camp Youngblood wouldn't be safe. There were children there. Children that BLI/ind would brainwash if they got their hands on them.

"We both know I'm not going to recover without outside help."

"Why, Alien? Why am I so important to you would risk this?" She hoped the siblings would think the this was Alien's health. "Neither of us is this stupid."

Alien chuckle/coughed. "I told you she wouldn't do it."

Party Poison gently squeezed Pockets' shoulder, startling the young woman. "You have nothing to be scared of. You'll be perfectly safe with us."

Pockets didn't move her eyes from Alien. "If something goes wrong, it's not your fault. We crystal?"

Alien smiled for the first time in days.

Once they were on their way to the camp and Alien had fallen into an uneasy sleep, Pockets whispered, "It's your safety I'm worried about."

The only thing she got in reply was another squeeze on the shoulder from Party Poison. It felt almost affectionate.


	6. Lungs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filer chapter. And oh my word! Three kudos and over 30 views! Thanks, everyone! I certainly don't feel that I deserve it!

Alien heard when the car finally stopped. They had made it to Camp Youngblood. They looked up at Pockets. She was gripping the strap of her bag like a lifeline. "Chill. Nobody's going to die."

"Says the one with the life threatening illness." The attempt at a joke was as flat as what they could see of Pockets' eyes.

Alien wanted to scream at Pockets. They had never talked about the whole "You Used To Be A SCARECROW" thing, beyond the story of why Pockets left. Yet, Alien knew that's why the young woman almost refused to come. Alien didn't like it all. Pockets had nothing to be ashamed of. She wasn't a spy and there was no way she'd be willingly captured.

If Pockets couldn't see that in her own personality, she wasn't as brilliant as she seemed. Alien was nervous about being here too but Pockets didn't need to look like someone was going to kill her just for being here.

"Lighten up, Pockets. You look like you pulled your bun too tight."

A ghost of a smile.

"That's better. I'm not going to get better with your sorry ass moping around. Go find something to do." And with that, Alien let Kobra Kid support them to the infirmary.

\--------------------------------------

Pockets wanted desperately to look around Camp Youngblood. She wanted to take in every detail. Every person, every sound, every paint chip and broken brick. Her swelling eyes made it difficult, not to mention the shame gnawing in the back of her brain.

"It looks like you need the infirmary too."

The man talking to her was tall. She knew he was a Killjoy but he wasn't one of the ones high up on SCARECROW's list of baddies. It would be easier if he had something like a team with him. Instead, he was just standing there, looking mildly concerned.

"I'm good. Have had much worse than this, believe it or not."

"I'm Brobeck."

Pockets mentally pulled up the file associated with 'Brobeck'. Unlike The Fab Four, or The Suitehearts, or Mad-Gear and Missile Kid, she had no birth name to attach to it. Just the height and a list of suspected co-horts. "Pockets."

"You don't look like a Killjoy, Pockets."

Pockets hadn't broken out of the habit of wearing the dark greys and crisp whites of Battery City. Her shirt wasn't crisp, or clean even, but it was still relatively colourless. "I'm not. I'm Little Alien's friend. I'm here because they asked me to come."

"When you're not leaning against cars like an old-school rebel, what do you do?"

"Survive."

"No hobbies?"

"I run to stay in shape."

"The sun's going down. Has someone told you where you're bunking for the night?"

"No. We're all a little too focused on Alien's comprised lung function."

"We have an extra bed." Brobeck pointed at an outbuilding. "If you're not uncomfortable rooming with men for the night."

Pockets patted her bag. "Shy of a sandstorm, I'm all set to sleep out here. Thank you for the offer."

Brobeck sighed. "Alright, then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Pockets watched him go and then decided she needed to distance herself from camp before bedding down for the night.

\----------------------------------------

Alien expected a lecture on proper see binding or at least the stank eye. Instead, the Killjoy's medical person was kind and gentle. "Well," they said as they were checking Alien over. "You haven't broken a rib or ruptured a lung but you're not going to be wearing a binder or a bra for awhile. Are you okay with having IV antibiotics?"

"Is that the kind where they--you know?" Alien's voice trailed and then broke into another fit of coughing.

"Let the stuff drip right into your blood via needles and tubing. And I guess that's a no." The doctor scooted their stool over to a cabinet and stood. "Now, the question is, do I give you a large supply of pills and send you on your way or do I monitor you until this clears?"

Alien was pretty sure the doctor was saying it was their choice. Alien wanted to take the pills and run but they couldn't exactly run. They weren't sure where Pockets had run off too either. They gave the doctor a vague shrug. "I don't know. What will get me better faster?"

"We don't have the equipment to take cultures, so I have no idea what's in your lungs. No one's going to make you do anything you don't want to but I'd rather you stayed somewhere nearby, if not here in the infirmary." The doctor looked at Kobra Kid and Party Poison. "Assuming that's okay with whomever's in charge?"

"Benzedrine been trying to get them to stay here for awhile. It shouldn't be a problem."

"You mentioned someone named Pockets? Are they going to need a once-over too?

"Could I have gotten her sick?" Alien asked weakly.

"I don't think so. I simply wanted to cover all my bases."

"Pockets can take care of herself," Alien assured. "She's probably being stupid and planning to camp out but she should be fine."

The doctor and the Killjoys shared a look.

"What?" Alien demanded. "Don't look at me like I'm a kid. I'm not."

"Are you sure she didn't follow us inside?" Kobra asked. "There's supposed to be heavy winds tonight."

"We can find her before they start, probably. She couldn't have gone far." Party Poison headed for the exit, slipping on his jacket as they went. "You, stay in bed. Pockets will be fine."


	7. A Shadow of What's To Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read somewhere that Andy's backup plan might have resulted in him becoming a college/university professor so I decided to call him The Professor instead of Donnie. There's a lot of set-up for the primary plot in this chapter. And I know I'm not keeping up with tagging the characters. Sorry. It's a lot harder than I expected. Anyway, the note at the end is important so read it please.

Pockets was a fucking idiot. Perhaps not in the literal sense, but the decision to camp away from Camp Youngblood wasn't a smart one. Night was falling and the wind was picking up. She quickly took off her shirt and tank, tied the tank over her mouth, and replaced the shirt. She buttoned it all the way up and rolled down the sleeves.

"You just had to convert your pants into shorts, didn't you Graves?" she muttered.

Imagining Alien calling her a dumb city girl bottled a bit of the panic. Enough that she could pull out her sleeping bag. Blessing the BLI science department, she pulled it over her head. Hopefully the wind would die down before she was buried in sand. It didn't sound like a fun way to die. She thought she heard someone yell her name over the wind but she didn't want to leave her sand-free cocoon to check.

The darkness proved soothing and she quickly fell asleep.

\-------------------------------------

Alien paced around the infirmary. "When they find her and bring her here, I'm going to give her a big hug. And then I'm going to smack her. Really. Fucking. Hard."

"You're supposed to be in bed." The doctor sighed. "I knew I should have given you the IV."

Alien coughed. "How am I supposed to rest when my only friend is about to be buried in sand?"

"Please, at least sit." The doctor pressed the back of a chair to their legs. "I'm not comfortable with my patients overtaxing themselves."

Alien sighed. They weren't in any condition to help look for Pockets and they knew it. They looked at the sand swirling against the window. Their sigh turned into a painful cough that lasted several minutes.

"I know you're worried but there's nothing we can do. You're ill and I need to stay here in case someone gets injured."

A gentle knock diverted their conversation. The doctor (Alien wasn't even sure if they were a doctor, actually, they could have been a nurse) got up and opened the door just a crack. "We heard Alien was in here and Pockets was missing. Thought you could use some company on your vigil."

"Hi, Missile Kid. Mad-Gear." They tried to inject their usual enthusiasm into the greeting. It didn't work.

"My patient needs rest. I will kick you out if you're too boisterous. And, you. They can only stay if you're in bed. Now."

Alien got up and got on the bed. They carefully pulled the blanket up to their chin. Then, they stuck out their tongue out.

"Young people." The doctor shook their head. "I'm going to be in my office. You three behave yourselves."

Mad-Gear pulled the stool the doctor had vacated up to Alien's bed and Missile Kid sat on the bed by their feet. "This isn't going to sound all that useful to you, but there's something we can do that might be useful."

"Don't the sandstorms mess with your equipment?"

Mad-Gear shook his head. "It's not related to computers or radios, Alien. How much do you know about God?"

"Isn't that some old-outdated thing they got rid of when Battery City was founded?"

"It's a bit hard to get rid of a person," Missile Kid said. "Or, I suppose, the belief in a person."

Mad-Gear continued. "People like Missile and I believe there's Someone out there, watching out for us. We can't see Them, but They genuinely care. They can help us if all we do is ask."

"You're telling me there's an invisible someone somewhere that wants to help us?" Alien snorted. "Full offense, that sounds fucking crazy."

"It used to be a pretty popular idea, actually," Mad-Gear replied. "I found some scanned in files from old books when I was a kid. That's how I became a hacker. I wanted to know more about God and They helped me find my purpose."

Alien expressed their skepticism.

"It sounds weird," Missile Kid admitted. "But it's real. We talk to Them and it helps. Maybe not in the literal sense but calms me down at least."

"How exactly do you have a conversation with something you can't fucking see?"

"It's called prayer. We communicate with words and thoughts and They communicate back with feelings and impressions."

"But how do you know those thoughts and impressions aren't just you?"

"That's where the belief thing comes in." Mad-Gear smiled. "It's hard to believe but I do it anyway. Sometimes I doubt but I keep going."

"And it's rebellion against Battery City in it's own way."

Alien thought for a few minutes. Both Missile Kid and Mad-Gear looked genuine but Alien still thought it was crazy. Some cosmic psychic being caring and communicating a bunch of Killjoys? And if They cared about everyone why They didn't stop the evils Battery City was committing? Did They care about BLI and SCARECROW? Alien supposed not, since the corporation basically wiped Them out, but what did Alien know?

"It's a lot to process," Mad-Gear admitted. He pulled out a small device. "Want to hear the song Missile and I are working on?"

The awkward feeling in their gut dissipated. The conversation slipped into lighter topics and eventually Alien's medication kicked in and they slipped into sleep.

\-------------------------------------

Every SCARECROW recruit had a file. Last she had seen it, Pockets' file looked like this:

 _Name:_ Graves, Ruby Rebecca

 _Height:_ 170 cm

 _Weight:_ 63.5 kg

 _Birthday:_ 19 July

 _Year of Training:_ Fourth

 _Area(s) of Expertise:_ Field Work, Combat, Physical Security 

_Strengths:_ Memorization, Detail Oriented, Extroverted, Quick Decision Maker, Follows Through With Plans

 _Liabilities:_ Minimal Computer Skills, Temperamental, Difficulty Following Orders, Age, Acts On "Intuition", Heavy Sleeper

 _Additional Notes:_ Graves seems to have withdrawn in the last few weeks. While this has decreased the disobedience drastically, Trainee A.F., currently Graves' roommate, has expressed concern. Depression appears to be the likely culprit. Graves has been ordered to undergo an evaluation. Reprogramming is already being considered a treatment option.--K.

Pretty much every fact in her file landed her in her current situation. She hadn't meant to open her own file but once she saw the last line in the vital stats section, she had her plan. Her poor roommate had probably expected it of her. As the only women in their year, they had been rooming together for four years. It wasn't that they hated each other, it's that they were vastly different. Pockets had finished secondary school early and entered the program right after that. Her roommate had finished a two-year computer program before being recruited. The four age gap caused it's fair share of problems, especially since they were equal. Technically, they were fighting for different positions but one would ultimately work for the other. There was no way around it.

Pockets had wondered at first if A.F.'s concern was genuine at first but it wasn't important. The word reprogramming and the date of the evaluation where. So, she did it. She got her hands on some sedatives and put them in A.F.'s tea and ran for it.

Which of course, led to giving up on life by Alien's little hut, which led to moving in with Alien, and then Alien dragged her to one place she didn't want to end up, and then her stupid tendency to sleep heavily brought her to this.

Someone was carrying her. They had uncovered her head but otherwise she was trapped. She was fucking sand-covered burrito. "OI!" She tried to break free. Curse the BLI science division for making these things impossible to rip.

"It's me, Brobeck. We met last night."

Pockets blinked in faint light of early morning. "Brilliant. Now, please let me go."

"You were unconious and half-buried in sand I found you. I didn't know if you were hurt."

Pockets continued to struggle to get out of the sleeping bag. "I was _asleep_ , dude. People do that at night."

Brobeck helped her get out of the sleeping bag. Then, he visibly turned his head. "Your shirt is open," he whispered.

"Fuck." She quickly removed her tank from around her neck and put her outfit back in order. "There. I'm used to being around people who don't care. Sorry."

"It's okay."

Pockets looked at the pathetic remains of her sleeping bag. "That must have been some storm."

"You slept through it?" Brobeck sounded disbelieving.

"My boyfriend used to joke that I'd sleep through Battery City's dome collapsing." Pockets shrugged. "Well, I guess he's my ex-boyfriend. I never got around to breaking up with him but it's been two months."

The truth about Benetton Williams, the nursing student Pockets had been seeing, was a bit more complicated. They had started seeing each other when they were eighteen but it wasn't a constant. Both their training programs were intense. Pockets kept him around because it was nice to have a friend she wasn't competing against. She was pretty sure he realised it was over the last time she saw him anyway. The fact that she had almost forgotten about him was a sign she was over it, at least.

"I found her!" Brobeck yelled as they approached the edge of Camp Youngblood.

The first people that came up to them were a duo Pockets identified as Joseph Trohman (Horseshoe) and Andrew Hurley (The Professor). Pockets was trying not to stare at their tattoos. She already knew The Professor was covered in them but seeing them up close was another thing altogether.

Trohman, on the other hand, was staring at _her_. "Everything alright here?" Brobeck asked.

"Under all that bruising, you look familiar," Trohman said. "Have we met?"

"I don't think so. If we met before I defected, you'd be in custody. And I know we haven't met in the past few months. I'd remember." Pockets head was starting to hurt again and they needed to find Alien. "Which way is the infirmary?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _World Building Note:_
> 
>  
> 
> I decided back when I was writing Chapter 3 that this fic isn't in the music video/comic universe nor a AU of Beyond the End. (I love BtE, btw. If you haven't read it, go and enjoy). Rather, this is more like a classic dystopia novel. Battery City's been around long enough that no one really remembers what came before. I'm not exactly sure how many generations/years. So, it's not 2019. There's not really a concept of numbered years anyway. 
> 
> Anyway, Chapter 8 is the last planned filler/set up chapter. Things will get fun starting in 9 and 10.


	8. Authority Sucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea how to write all the filler so I kinda made Pockets' anger a little hotter than I thought it would be originally. I knew she'd be hesitant to be a Killjoy but I didn't expect it to be this bad. Of course, it plays excellently into how the plot is going to go so who cares?

Alien practically threw themselves on Pockets when they stepped into the infirmary. "Fuck. You stupid moronic idiotic city girl!" They muttered into her hair. "You honestly thought you weren't allowed to sleep here?"

"Hi, Alien. Do you know where they keep the anti-inflammatory drugs? My face is killing me."

Alien stepped back. "You could have died and you're asking about _painkillers_?

"I did take a bit of a beating a few days ago, you know." A blush was quickly spread across Pockets' cheeks. "Is there a doctor around?"

The doctor stepped out of their office. They were carrying a towel and a hospital gown. They set them in Pockets' arms and pointed at the door to the bathroom. "You're going to take a shower, young lady, and then I'm giving you a full physical. Standard new-to-camp procedure."

Pockets' blushed faded and then she went pale. "I'm fine. Seriously. This is nothing."

"Did I give you the option to say no? March."

Pockets disappeared into the bathroom.

"Did you have to ask like that?" Alien asked the doctor swept up the sand Pockets tracked in. "She's terrified already."

"This is my infirmary."

"But it isn't your camp. Everyone from here to Battery City and out to the furthest ends of Zone 6 knows Benzene runs this place. If my friend doesn't want a medical exam, she's not getting one."

Pockets came out of the bathroom then, nose wrinkled. "This hospital gown is pink," she muttered.

"Yeah, I don't like it either." Little Alien lifted theirs away from their chest. "But both of our clothes are kinda ruined. Missile Kid and Mad-Gear are looking around for something for us. And you know, you don't have to be examined if you don't want to."

"As bad and unlike me as this sounds, sometimes it's best to stick to the status quo." Pockets looked at the doctor. "Let's get this over with."

\-------------------------------------

After the exam, it took three hours for someone to locate clothes for Pockets. Finding the right size bra proved difficult but it happened. Pockets spent those three hours trying to listen to Alien explain how Camp Youngblood worked. Unfortunately, Pockets had only one thing on her mind.

_Alien has boobs!_

Her first thought upon seeing Alien in that gown had been, _Alien's a girl_ but she caught herself. SCARECROW had made the recruits aware that a refusal to adhere to the gender binary was a common Killjoy practice and there was no way to know what gender some of the undocumented rebels were. That's why it hadn't thrown Pockets for a loop for long in the beginning. Still, it was a lot to process.

When Missile Kid appeared with a stack of clothes, he was very red-faced. "I never thought I'd have to run a mission to Battery City for girls' underwear," he muttered. "Don't worry. Nothing's coloured."

"Thanks, Missile."

"Oh, and Benzedrine wants to see you as soon as possible. He has some questions."

And so, Pockets found herself heading in the general direction of Benzedrine's office. She felt a bit like she did back at The Academy of Battery City, heading for the Headmaster's office. She highly doubted Benzene was going to kick her out but there was no way to know for.

"Sit down?" he asked when she entered.

She sat. "Missile Kid said you wanted to ask me some questions?"

"Yes." He adjusted his hat. "You're a legal adult, right?"

"Yeah. I'm twenty."

"I know you were in training to be a SCARECROW agent. How much do you know about a Killjoy called The Moon?"

"That was what, a little over four years ago? The one that turned himself in?" Benzene nodded. "I think they determined he was just some Outer Zone kid that fell into a bad crowd but that was a few weeks before I started my training."

"His real name was Ryan Ross. Mad-Gear hasn't been able to find anything. It's like he never existed."

Pockets thought for a moment. There was a Ross in her year at SCARECROW training, but his name was George. He was kinda secretive, even had his own dorm room. She had been paired with him for a couple of zone exercises. "It doesn't ring a bell. Do you have a picture?"

Benzene handed over a small picture.

Acting as if this was an important piece of evidence, Pockets took it. The picture was of four young men. None of them were familiar.

Benzedrine pointed to each one. "That's The Sun, the Earth, the Moon and Pluto. They had picked their code names that day."

"I haven't heard of Pluto."

"He died in a raid the next week."

"Oh." Pockets was confused. "No offense, sir, but why are you telling me this?"

"They eventually replaced the rest of the team. You've met Brobeck. But JWalk disappeared a few months ago."

"Jonathan Walker? He's in the high security prison."

Benzedrine raised his eyebrow at the interruption. "Do you mind?"

"Sorry."

"I hope you don't mind, but you're officially a Killjoy."

"Well, that's anticlimactic. And do I have to? Can't I be, I don't know, the infirmary janitor?"

"The Weathervanes need someone like you."

"You're kidding, right? I'm a former SCARECROW."

"If anyone can keep those boys in line, it's you. There's a reason they keep loosing men."

"And you think giving their team a girl will help? That's remarkably sexist of you, Stump."

"You know my real name?"

"I know a lot of Killjoys' real names. We recruits learn that sort of thing early in our training. You think your masks and your codenames keep you safe but they don't. It gives the general population some mysterious anti-heroes but to SCARECROW, you're over-the-top. You hide when you don't need to hide. It's cowardly."

Pockets knew exactly why she was angry. While Benzedrine hadn't exactly said "Do this or get out," he certainly didn't give her any room for argument. She knew he wasn't the oldest Killjoy and yet there he sat. Running a camp that was half-orphanage half headquarters of the rebellion. And, goodness, he was so short. Why was he running this place anyway?

"Am I excused to report to the nearest Weathervane, sir?" She said it with the same venom she used with the senior SCARECROWs.

Benzedrine looked shocked but nodded. "You're free to go."

\--------------------------------------

"What do you mean I have to sleep here and Pockets can't?" Alien demanded, coughing. "I feel fine."

"One, you are clearly still ill. You've been on antibiotics for less than a day, and two, your friend, while a little beat up, is perfectly healthy. I need these beds for actual sick people." The doctor handed Alien another large pill.

"But no one else is actually ill."

"You're from the Zone 1/2 border, aren't you? You have no idea how dangerous it is out here. The Killjoys bring people like you in all the time. The Killjoys themselves are shot at, fall from high heights, and do some stupid shit. The last person that used your bed was quite literally dead. I need every bed open."

"Well, then, let me bunk with someone else and just come here for the medication every so often."

"It doesn't work like that." The doctor pressed a cup of water into Alien's other hand.

"I'm nineteen, you know."

"Since you refuse to tell me your real name, I have no way to double check that information."

Pockets appeared in the infirmary at that exact moment. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked.

Alien could tell Pockets was upset about something but ws too upset themselves to ask about it. "You're not allowed to stay in the infirmary. It's fucking stupid."

"No, it's not." Pockets picked up her pile of clothes. "I've sort of been inducted into the Weathervanes anyway."

"Wait, you're on a team? Already? We've only been here a day."

"Benzedrine's orders. Doc, do you know which outbuilding is the Weathervanes'?"

"I'm not sure. Ask around. You'll find someone who knows."

"Unless I have an assignment, I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't worry, A. Shouldn't take long." Pockets held out her hand. "Promise."

Alien shook her hand. "You better."

Once Pockets was gone, the doctor put on a smug smile. "Your friend gets it."

"My friend has a name." And then, Benzedrine appeared. "You. What did you do to Pockets?"

"I suggested she work with the Weathervanes until you were recovered."

"Suggested or ordered?" Alien started coughing.

"I--Alien."

Alien crossed their arms, carefully concealing a wince. "I knew staying here would be a bad idea."

\-------------------------------------

And so they slipped, uncomfortably, into the daily routine of Camp Youngblood. Pockets knew her position in the Weathervanes was temporary. Alien was determined to get out of the infirmary. They escaped whenever possible to the basement of the main building to hang out with Mad-Gear and Missile Kid.

For Pockets, the hardest part wasn't being a Weathervane. The team let her in with ease. The Sun, or as she secretly called him 'The Forehead', was over the top but the other two were easy to get along with. She even discovered that Brobeck was from the outskirts of Gem City, on the other side of Zone Six.

It was Suithearts that made her uncomfortable. Her issues with authority made it difficult to be around Benzedrine. Horseshoe looked at her like he knew something she didn't and The Professor seemed to be in on it. And the Sandman kept trying to check her mental health. They were fucking annoying.

Alien's biggest problem was the doctor, January. The cough cleared quickly but the pain in their ribs didn't. Hot pads and baths did little to help and Alien avoided the Better Living Industries' painkillers. Since they refused to take anything, the doctor (and the pain) often kept Alien in bed. Missile Kid and Mad-Gear were their only respite. When January needed to sleep, they'd kidnap Alien and they'd chill with the 21 computers Mad-Gear used for his hacking.

Pockets snapped after a month. She marched down to the basement. "I'm going to the 1/2 village. I might stay at our house for a few days, if it's vacant. Do you need anything?"

Alien turned around. "No, 'hi, good morning? how are you?' I thought you city people had manners."

"Hi, Alien, Mad-Gear, Missile Kid. How is everyone?" Pockets pulled her hair out of its bun and redid it.

"We're fine," Alien answered. "All things considered. You, on the other hand, are a fucking mess. I should have chopped that mop off while we still slept in the same room."

Pockets sighed. "I'm fine."

"Nice pants," Mad-Gear said. "Yellow's your colour."

Pockets looked down. _I'm officially loosing it. The Sun's using my drawer and I didn't even notice._ "Fine. I may be getting a slight case of camp fever. It's nothing a few days on my own won't fix. You need anything?"

"Just don't do something stupid, like get another tattoo."

"Whatever you say, A. If anyone asks..."

"You went batshit crazy and there's no hope of rescue," Alien responded in a deadpan.

"Why do I even like you?" Pockets turned to go. "See you later, Mad-Gear, Missile Kid."


	9. Irrational Actions

Pockets borrowed a mountain bike to get back to the 1/2 border. It took a couple of days to get there. She didn't mind. The weather was clear and her bag was fully loaded. It gave her the space she needed. When she made it to the hut, she was surprised to see Larry the tattoo guy standing there. "Hey, girlie. You might want to be careful if you head into the village."

"SCARECROW?" Pockets didn't even get off the bike.

"Nah. Those fuckers shut me down last week. There's some city boy asking about a girl named Ruby. Sounded like you."

Pockets brain automatically jumped to the most logical explanation. "Must be Bene."

"That makes you Ruby."

"Unfortunately. What did he want?"

"A Battery City official tried to convince him you went and died on him. He's convinced you're alive."

"Fuck."

Larry raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you were doing?"

Pockets blushed. "Ew. No. Absolutely not. Ben and I weren't like that. I don't know what to call us but we were never _that_. Where did you see him last?"

"Standing right about where you are. He had a car though, not a bike."

Pockets, almost unconsciously, changed her hair. _What have I done?_

she thought. _And why did Battery City try to convince Benetton (and probably everyone else) I was dead? It would make more sense to admit I defected._

The answer hit her like a ton of bricks. She didn't like it at all.

\---------------------------------------

Back in the main building of Camp Youngblood, Alien, Missile Kid, and Mad-Gear were down in the computer-filled basement. A loud ping sounded through every speaker. The screen Alien was in front of turned black.

_MG, MK, you there?--H_

"Who's H?" Alien asked

Without skipping a beat, Tyler leaned across Alien to type. "Hurricane. A leak inside BLind. I've traced them to the science division."

_What up?_ Tyler wrote.

_It's about your newest friend, Trainee Ruby Graves._

_What about her?_

_They think she's me. I know it sounds crazy but given who she is, I'm not surprised._

"What do you mean by who she is?" Alien said, even though they weren't sure Hurricane could hear them.

Tyler transposed the message.

_Ruby's mom is a big deal on the Battery City BLInd Joint Council. She doesn't work for BLInd. I don't know much other than that Ruby was emancipated when her mom remarried._

Hurricane continued. _When Ruby was first spotted with the Weathervanes, SCARECROW freaked. Mrs. Schmidt intervened. Now, every record says Ruby was kidnapped and is presumed dead._

_Y r u telling us?_

_Williams, some friend of Ruby's, doesn't believe. Knowing Ruby, she'll do something stupid if she finds out._

Alien took the keyboard from Tyler. _You know Pockets?_

_I've known Ruby for years. Just don't let her do anything stupid._

_She's already gone. Went out to the 1-2 border._

_Fuck._ The words started wavering. _I have to go. My boss is heading my way. Whatever you do, don't let Ruby come home._

The screen went white for almost a minute, then flashed.

_They'll kill her._

\-------------------------------------

Pockets thought about it for a few days. She slowly made her way further into Zone 1. It wasn't that she loved Benetton Williams. She hadn't felt guilty when she left. In fact, she had forgotten him. The guilt of having forgotten someone who obviously cared so much felt like a kick to the stomach.

Of course, being tackled within a few yards of the city gates hurt worse.

Her first thought was _SCARECROW_ but there were rules against tackling non-hostiles from behind. "Fucking hell," she muttered into the sand.

"Was that really necessary, Professor?" the familiar voice of Horseshoe said from above her.

"I didn't want her to run."

"Get off her, man." The weight got off her back and a hand appeared. "You alright, kiddo?"

Pockets got to her feet without assistance. "I've had worse. Why are you tackling me?" She spat the sand out of her mouth.

Alien stepped out of the shadows and pointed at Battery City's dome. "Hurricane told us you might be thinking about going in there."

"The science department leak knows about me?"

"Whomever they are, they know you pretty well. They're the ones that said you might try to go back."

Horseshoe cleared his throat. "We probably can't stop you without all four of us getting caught. We're too close to the gate."

"Why do you care, anyway, Horseshoe?"

"Because I know what Amelia Schmidt is capable of."

Pockets had a very bad feeling about the turn in the conversation. "You don't know my mother. You left Battery City when you were sixteen."

"My sister got married when she was eighteen. I was ten. Her first husband's name was Robert Graves."

"I think I'd know if my mother had a baby brother." _Oh, how fucking cliché_. 

"Not if she didn't want you to know. She was determined to break any ties with the slums."

"I know your birthday." The realisation didn't dawn. It hit her like a truck. "I was born when you were seven. That means my mother was..."

"Fifteen." Horseshoe sighed. "I'm sorry, Pockets. I meant to tell you sooner but there wasn't a good time."

Pockets couldn't process what was happening. "I--I need to talk to Bene."

Alien stepped forward and flipped the hood of their dark hoodie up. "I'm going with you."

"A, you're--"

"Doc January convinced me to take some painkillers," Alien interrupted. "I'm still sore but I'm fine. Someone has to keep you alive. Come on."


	10. The Moment The Tea Mug Shatters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual plot appears!

Alien hoped it wasn't obvious that they had never been in Battery City. Pockets had softly warned them to stay close and then slid into the crowd.

Overall, Battery City was a disappointment. Alien expected it to be some beacon of hope. Instead it was dirty and crumbling. Graffiti and Better Living Industries posters warred for space on the walls. Pockets expertly stepped over junk. Alien smelled something awful but couldn't identify it. There was even sand in the streets.

"These are the slums." Pockets gently touched Alien's arm. "There are three gates, one for each neighbourhood. Bene's flat is near here."

"Your boyfriend lives in the slums?"

"Yes. He always has. He likes being near his mother." Pockets quickly jumped up some steps and into an old building. "We've got a bit of a climb. It's a top-floor walk up."

The building was dim. Alien could barely see. The excessive walking didn't help their ribs. "Even the main building at Camp Youngblood has a fucking elevator," they huffed.

"In some ways, the poor of Battery City have it worse than the outlaws in the Zones," Pockets sighed. They finally made it to the top floor. The door on the left had a W on it. Pockets knocked.

A tall dark skinned young man pulled Pockets into a hug.

\----------------------------------------

Pockets had forgotten how comforting standing in Benetton Williams' arms was. There was something safe about him. His hand settled on her head, fingers tangling in her braid. "Ruby. Ruby. Ruby," he whispered. "I knew you were alive."

Even though she didn't want to move, she cleared her throat. "We're not alone."

He stepped back and into his apartment. "Come in."

Pockets took his hand as she and Alien stepped into the tiny apartment. "I'm sorry for leaving."

"You've been missing for 87 days. At first they told me you were in General for emergency surgery and were refusing visitors. Then, you were on some classified mission. Then, they said you were captured and presumed dead. Your mother had a damn private funeral. What were you thinking?"

"So, the not-thinking things through thing isn't new?" Alien's voice was the deepest Pockets had heard it. The young person flipped down their hood. "And before you ask, I'm not your replacement. We're partners of the other sort."

"The Killjoys _recruited_ you?" Bene stepped away, breaking the contact. "How much trouble can I get in from talking to you?"

"Depends on whether or not you're going to turn us in." Pockets stopped herself from reaching for his hand. "I thought I'd let you know I was alive."

Alien winced loudly. "Dude, can I sit?"

Pockets's attention was diverted. "Your painkillers wear off?"

Alien had gone pale. "I guess I wasn't as recovered as I thought."

Pockets sighed. "We're going to have to cut our visit short. We need to get back to Doc January."

Bene walked over to his hall closet and pulled out a first aid kit. "I'm a medic. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Ben."

Alien looked over Pockets' shoulder to the door to Bene's sleeping space. "Not in front of her."

Pockets couldn't stop herself. "I know."

"I--How? When?"

"After I got stuck in that fucking sandstorm."

Bene raised an eyebrow. "Look, if you want privacy, I can make Ruby wait out here. I don't care, dude. But I can't do anything if you two are speaking in code."

Alien nodded and stood back up. "Sorry, Pockets."

"I don't understand what you're doing but whatever. I won't press the issue." Pockets took Alien's spot on the couch.

Bene was the only one who exited the room. "Your friend is resting. Do you want some tea?"

"Sure." Pockets looked up at her friend. "You look freaked."

"It's not everyday you meet a chick named Tanner."

"Their name is _Tanner_? And Alien isn't a chick. Gender non-conformity is an accepted part of life out in the Zones."

"Do you have any clue how unstable you sound?" Bene sat down and pressed a mug into Pockets' hand. "Gender and sex are a set thing, one or the other. Whatever her name is, she needs help. She's a kid, Ruby."

"They're small but I'm fairly certain they're legal." Pockets took a sip of the tea. "The only person I know that treats them like a child is the doctor."

"I should be calling the Juvenile Division of SCARECROW. I'm a mandatory reporter."

"That would involve turning me in too."

Bene rested his hand on her forearm, right on top of the crescent moon tattoo. The sight obviously startled him. "Is that permanent?"

"I have two on the other arm. And, yes. Very much so."

" _Why,_ Ruby? Why would you go from upholding the law to blatantly breaking it?" He was looking at her, finally, with heart break in his eyes. "What possessed you?"

"The world isn't as black and white as BLInd wants us to think, Bene." Pockets kept sipping the tea. "It's so much more complicated. Self expression doesn't lead to unrest. BLInd's methods aren't the only way to keep chaos at bay. Their methods aren't even a good way."

"Something happened, didn't it?"

"A group of Killjoys were killed at SCARECROW's public office. They showed all the senior trainees the footage. There was a kid there."

"They killed a kid?"

"No, the girl escaped. I've met her, by the way. Sweet kid."

"So, the Killjoys were stupid enough to attack SCARECROW with a kid with them."

"SCARECROW took the girl, Bene. One of the special agents--the kind that wear the masks--took her. To lure the most powerful and popular Killjoys out into the open. It's sick and fucking wrong on too many levels."

Bene tried to not react. He took the now-empty mug from Pockets. "Need more tea?"

Pockets stood. A pang of dizziness hit her as she took the mug back. "I think I remember where you keep your tea." The world was suddenly blurry.

Bene touched her elbow. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

The mug shattered and the world went white.

\---------------------------------------

Alien woke up in a hospital bed, not Pockets' boyfriend's. It wasn't the bed-lined hall of the infirmary either. A young woman sat beside the bed. She looked about 24. "Hello. I'm Agent Frangipane. I'm with the SCARECROW office here in Battery City. Would mind telling me your real name?"

"Um..." Something felt wrong both inside of and on top of Alien's head. 

"Sorry, it appears that Mr. Williams over estimated your weight. It may take a bit for your mind clear." The agent tapped on a tablet screen. "Do you know where you are?"

Alien shook their head and was surprised to not see the familiar blue of their fringe. "What the fuck?"

"It would be in your best interest to speak with your natural voice. We know you're a girl. Name and date of birth?"

Alien kept their mouth shut.

"Look, you obviously aren't a Tanner. And knowing your exact age will make so you won't accidentally be charged as an adult. The Academy isn't that bad of a place and it's certainly better than prison."

"I am an adult."

"It's in your best interest not to be." The Agent passed over her tablet. A photo of Pockets before Alien met her was open. The other one was some security footage of Pockets and The Sun. "Do you know this woman? Her name is Ruby Graves. My superior believes the Killjoys call her Hurricane."

"She's not Hurricane," Alien said slowly. 

"I didn't think so. You're going to kept here for a few days while we decide what to do with you. The call button's right there if you need the nurse." Agent Frangipane stood. Taking the tablet, she started to walk away. The click of her heels against the floor stopped, briefly.

"Sorry about your hair. I couldn't stop them."


	11. Drugged

Pockets woke up with a massive hang-over and a heated argument buzzing in her years.

"You can't drug your ex-girlfriend and stick her in the wardrobe while the cops drag off her friend, son." The kind voice of Mrs. Williams floated to her ears. "You could have gotten the other one to the hospital some other we way."

"Mama, you don't understand."

"I understand perfectly well, Benetton. You have a soft spot for her. You always will."

Pockets sat up. Her stomach rolled. Bene put a bucket under her chin and started rubbing circles on her back. "You're okay. You're okay," he tried to assure her.

"Don't fucking touch me. This is not the time you got me drunk. What the hell did you lace that tea with?"

"Ruby, my mama's here."

"You drugged me. I'm going to fucking swear if I want to." Pockets pushed the bucket away. "Hello, ma'am."

"You've changed a bit. Spend a lot of time outside now, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." She shoved Bene away and got out from under the covers. She blushed furiously when she discovered she was wearing just her underwear. "If your mother wasn't in the fucking room, I'd beat you to a pulp, Bene. Where are my clothes and my bag? I need to go."

"I undressed you, dear," Mrs. Williams said. "And your clothes are in the wash."

"Great. I'm just going to have to take some of yours. I don't have an extra set in my bag right now." Pockets went over to the dresser and pulled out a black shirt and a pair of pants. She got dressed and then rolled up the pant legs until they were manageable. "Shoes, please?"

Mrs. Williams handed her her boots. "How will we get your clothes to you?"

"Give them to someone who needs them."

Bene reached for her. "Don't go."

Pockets dodged him. "Try to touch me again and you'll have a worse headache than I do. I have to go rescue my friend."

"At least let me help you get to wherever you're based. It's the least I can do."

"I'll walk."

\-------------------------------------

Alien's stay in the General Hospital was weird. They had expected to be put somewhere with armed guards but instead they were on the pediatric floor. The nurses weren't too happy when they left their room but as long as they didn't go near the elevator, they weren't yelled at.

"So, Janie," Agent Frangipane said when she came to visit again a few hours later. "How are you doing?"

Alien rubbed the fuzz on the top of their head. "Why is everyone calling me that?"

"Jane Doe is what we call women without positive. We changed it to Janie because you're young."

"My name is Little Alien."

"Your code name is Little Alien. We need your real name. The one your parents gave you."

"Fine, then. My name is Tanner."

"Lying isn't going to get you anywhere."

Alien crossed their arms, never mind their two improperly healed broken ribs. "You aren't getting anything out of me."

"Korse, that's my boss, doesn't particularly care what you know. You could know where Camp Youngblood is and he wouldn't bat an eye. You're here to lure Graves out of hiding."

"The other Killjoys won't let her rescue me. They'll lock her up before they'd let her join a rescue mission."

"Yes, but what's the likelihood of her trying to rescue you by herself? The Killjoys are planners. It could take weeks for them to formulate a plan to save you. Graves isn't known for her patience."

"Ruby makes so pretty stupid choices but she isn't that stupid."

"We'll see." The agent looked at Alien's food tray. "Are you going to eat that Jell-O?"

\------------------------------------

Just outside the gates to the slums, Pockets ran into the Fab Four. She almost didn't spot them, until Fun Ghoul grabbed her arm. "Hey, is everything alright?"

Pockets hadn't done anything with her hair. She tried to pull a tie out of her bag but her hands were shaking. "I fucked up."

"Here, let me." Party Poison steered her toward the front seat of the car. "Braid or bun?"

"I--I." She was crying. "I don't know."

"What happened? Where's Alien?" Kobra Kid gently forced Pockets attention on him. "Breathe."

"SCARECROW has Alien. I trusted him and he--" Pockets' stomach lurched. "He drugged me."

Kobra Kid stepped aside just before bile hit sand.

"Let's get her back to camp."

Once she had something to stop the vomiting, she forced herself to tell the story. When she finished, she started crying again. "I'm stupid and selfish. I shouldn't have gone to see him. I could have thought of some sneaky way to contact him."

"You're right," Benzedrine half-growled. "It's your fault we now need to stage another rescue."

"Don't be so hard on her."

"Don't baby her because you're related," Benzedrine countered.

"She needs food," The Professor said before the argument could get worse. "We can't do anything until Mad-Gear and Missile Kid find out where SCARECROW is keeping Little Alien."

"Fine, but I want her on lock down," Benzedrine said. "We're not loosing anyone else."

Pockets didn't protest. She even managed to eat a little something before slipping off to Weathervane bunk house to sleep.


	12. Waiting Game

It was another three days before Alien saw Agent Frangipane again. The young SCARECROW agent marched into Alien's hospital room and promptly said, "Mad-Gear has your location."

Alien looked away from the window. "Oh." There hadn't been much to do, besides watch BLInd propaganda and read. Watching the city go by below was the only interesting thing to do.

"Aren't you glad to be getting out of here?"

"It will take them awhile to figure out how to get me out. Killjoy missions are elaborate."

"Ruby Graves' plans aren't. She takes a lot of risks, but until recently, things always went her way. It's nice to see the mighty fall."

"Assuming the largest camp of Killjoys can't stop her, what are you planning on doing to her?"

Agent F joined Alien by the window. "I don't know. She was showing signs of mental illness when she left. If she's lucky, she'll be sentenced to some form of treatment."

"And if she's not?"

"She's a positively identified Killjoy. If she fights us at all, we're going to kill her."

Alien's stomach dropped. "She knows all this, doesn't she?"

"Yes. I really am sorry, kid. I hope we don't have to shoot her in front of you."

\---------------------------------------

Pockets had been moping on her bunk for most of those three days. The guilt had nearly shut her down. She knew she had no right to ask what was going. How young she was seemed overly apparent. Even the three year age gap between her and Missile Kid felt huge.

Just then, Missile Kid stepped into the bunk house. "We got the location of someone who is probably Little Alien."

"Probably?"

Mad-Gear pulled out the tablet. "Hurricane sent a picture along with the file but it's not the best quality. It calls them a teenage Jane Doe claiming to a boy named Tanner. They're in the hospital on mental health watch. They're on the children's floor."

"Why are you telling me this? It's not like I'm on the rescue team."

"We're not going to Benzedrine with this. I figure the four of us can figure out how to rescue Alien ourselves."

"Four?"

"Hurricane has access to the hospital security system. I don't. They'll be communicating to me via text and the three of us will use ear pieces. But I'm not familiar with the hospital layout so we don't have anything else planned."

Pockets mind started running a mile a minute. "Do we know if there's a window in Alien's room?"

"Are you suggesting we get her out the window?"

"The children's floor isn't too high. I'm going to need the most professional drab women's clothes we can find, a car, and rope." Pockets sniffed her arm pit. "And a shower, a pair of scissors, and a flat iron."

\--------------------------------------

Alien wished there was some way to communicate telepathically to Pockets. They paced around and around the ward, eventually ending up back in their room, staring at the street below.

And then, to their surprise, two figures stopped below the window. One of them looked up. He moved his hood, exposing bright artificial red hair. The figure on the left looked unfamiliar from Alien's height. They kissed Missile Kid on the cheek, flipped his hood back up, and went in the direction of the hospital's main doors.

The next ten minutes felt slow. Alien moved away from the window and sat in the chair meant for visitors. The only thing they could do was hope that unfamiliar head wasn't Pockets.


	13. A Kiss For Good Luck/Bye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of suicide. Please be safe and stay alive. |-/

As Pockets, Mad-Gear, and Missile Kid drove into Battery City, Pockets finally revealed her plan. "We're going to need to park a little bit away. This can't look like a get away car. Which one of you is physically stronger?"

"Um." The duo shared a look.

"One of you is going to have to wait under Alien's window and the other in the car. I don't care who." Pockets put her ear piece in. "Is Hurricane ready?"

Mad-Gear parked the car and checked his mobile computer. "Hurricane has the hospital security footage streaming live."

"Okay. Ready?" Pockets grabbed the door handle and as she got out, flipped the child safety lock to the on position.

"You're going in there by yourself?" Missile Kid joined her on the sidewalk.

Pockets stepped into a pair of heels and made sure her sleeves were buttoned. The fact that she and the Sun basically wore the same size of everything unsettled her but there hadn't been time to steal a pair. "The key is to look like I belong. No offense, but you and Mad-Gear look like Killjoys."

"But you're wearing heels and a skirt."

Pockets acted like she didn't hear Mad-Gear. "So, you're going to wait at the window?"

Missile Kid nodded and flipped the hood of his sweatshirt over his hair.

They starting walking toward the hospital. Missile Kid kept looking over his shoulder. As they rounded a corner, loosing sight of the car, Pockets laced her arm through his. "Relax. We're just two normal citizens enjoying our mandated day off."

He looked over his shoulder again.

Pockets was just as scared but it was critical that she pretended she wasn't. She hid her other hand behind her back. It was shaking.

"That's her window. Third floor." Mad-Gear said in their ears.

Mad-Gear removed his hood to get a better look. "Someone's at the window."

"Security cameras don't show anyone besides Little Alien going into or leaving the room for five hours," Mad-Gear relayed from the silent member of the team.

Hands shaking, Pockets put Missile Kid's hood back in place and kissed his cheek. "What was that for?"

"Good luck." The half-truth left her mouth easily. She adjusted her too-light bag and started toward a side entrance.

Pockets took the back stairs instead of the elevator. "I have a confession," she said, hovering by the door to the ward.

The silence from Mad-Gear and Missile Kid buzzed.

Pockets gulped. "There is a high possibility this is a trap. I'm going to everything I can to not get captured but I'm not the priority here. Don't come back for me. Are we crystal?"

"Pockets."

"I'll take that as a reluctant yes."

"Frick." Mad-Gear exclaimed as Pockets walked to Alien's door. "Someone's trying to hack into our communication signal and Hurricane said someone called Korse just walked into the hospital lobby."

Pockets kept her normal pace. She knocked on Alien's room's door and then stepped in. "Hi." She closed the door behind her. The pounding of her heart hurt.

Alien got out of recliner. "You're not supposed to be here."

Pockets shrugged pulled the rope out of her bag. It and the blaster were the only things in it. "Too late. You're not scared of heights, are you?"

"I should be fine."

"Good, because I couldn't find a harness. Missile Kid is right below us if something goes wrong." Pockets tied the rope to the sturdiest thing she could find and dangled it out the window.

Missile Kid caught it. "I don't like this."

"I'll be down right after Alien, I promise."

Alien gave Pockets a quick hug. "Don't do something stupid." Then, they started down the rope.

"SCARECROW, in the elevator," Mad-Gear said.

"I'm going to let go," Alien yelled. "So you can climb sooner."

"No, you're not. Mad-Gear, you're going to need to catch them." Pockets backed away from the window. "Also, do me a favour and keep them in the fucking back seat." Drawing her blaster, she shot twice, severing the rope. Alien yelled.

Someone shouted her birth name through the ear piece.

"Graves," a familiar voice growled from behind her. "Drop the weapon and turn around. You're under arrest for acts of rebellion."

\------------------------------------

The fall felt awful. The rope suddenly went slack and then started flying toward Alien. They fell backward and right into Missile Kid's arms.

Alien kicked and yelled as Missile Kid half-dragged half-carried them back to the car. Mad-Gear handed Missile Kid the tablet and hit the gas.

"We have to go back." Alien pulled on the door handle. It didn't budge. "And what the fuck is wrong with the door?" 

"Pockets asked us not to."

"They're going to kill her and you're driving away! We're leaving my best friend to die at the hands of SCARECROW! She's alone!"

"If they're going to kill her, she's already dead." Missile Kid's voice cracked. 

"She knew this was going to happen." Mad-Gear took his hand off the wheel long enough to wipe his eyes. "Pockets left SCARECROW because she was showing signs of depression. It's in her file. When you were taken, she barely moved. No one could convince her eat. I don't think she was entirely aware of what happening around her. The guilt sent her into shut down."

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're saying she's committing suicide by cop!"

Then, Alien remembered their first conversation with Pockets. Caked in sand, dehydrated, and half-asleep, she looked pathetic. Her eyes had been flat. She had perked up quickly enough that Alien hadn't thought much of it.

_"What are you doing here?"_

_"Waiting to die."_

"Oh, fuck. That stupid stupid city girl."

Mad-Gear was crying too. "I should have seen it. We shouldn't have told her. I read her file and it didn't cross my mind. I thought saving you would help her. Instead..."

"She's gone," Alien finished.


	14. Scattering The Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be posting a couple of other pieces along with this one, a non-serious FOB high school AU and then a Alien and Pockets Hogwarts AU. Or rather a Ruby and Tanner Hogwarts AU.

"Do you want to die, Ruby?" Ashley Frangipane, Ruby's former roommate, said from just behind Korse. "Please, put the weapon down."

Pockets engaged the safety and dropped the weapon. Then, she put her hands up.

"You know the drill," Korse barked.

Cuffed, shoved in the back of a car, and then into an interrogation room, Pockets remind stoic. When Ashley gently push her into a chair, she spoke. "Why am I not dead?"

"The joint consol thinks you suffered a break with reality. We were ordered to try to take you peacefully. Your punishment will be determined after an evaluation. Nobody here is too happy about that, but what can we do? George will be in a little bit to take down your information."

George Ross came in then, a faint smile on his face. "Ruby, I never thought I'd see you in cuffs."

"Oh, how the mighty fall, right?"

He removed the cuffs and took her finger prints. "Just to update your file, haven't you gotten new scars or other identifying marks since you've been gone, right?"

Ruby rolled up her sleeves.

"Oh, how the mighty rebel, more like it." George took out a small camera and took a couple photos of the tattoos. "Three in what, 90 days? That must be a record."

"Thanks."

"Killjoy codename?"

"Pockets."

George raised an eyebrow but continued. "Know associates are currently the Weathervanes, Brendon Urie, aka The Sun, Spencer Smith, or The Earth, and Brobeck. Any clue as to his real identity?"

"Just that he's not from Battery City. He mentioned Gem City but the City of Lights is another possibility. He's got a gift for mimicking their accent." Reciting information she had gathered came as naturally as breathing, unfortunately. 

"Do you know the exact coordinates of Camp Youngblood?"

"No. It's along the Killjoy path called Route Guano and looks like a pre-Battery City school campus."

"That's information we've had for years."p>

"I didn't leave with a GPS and I think one of Tyler Joseph's computers runs a signal to disrupt them anyway."

"You think?"

"I'm not the biggest fan of computers, remember?"

"Right." George--she supposed she ought to think think of as Agent Ross, since they weren't colleagues anymore--scrolled through the files on his tablet. "I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but you were aware that you're related to Joseph Trohman and that Robert Graves is not your father, genetically or legally?"

"I found out the day Bene turned Alien in."

"Then, it is my duty to inform you that in the eyes of both the law and Better Living Industries, you are now Ruby Rebecca Trohman. Do you understand?"

"We're crystal." Pockets started rubbing her wrist. "I know you don't have to tell me, but how did you find out?"

"When Agent Frangipane and I graduated a couple days after you left, we were assigned to the case. We both have the highest number of interactions with you, after all. Agent Frangipane found a bug in the digital copy of your birth certificate so we tracked down the physical file. Then, we ran the DNA samples." He shook his head. "Your mother is awaiting trial for fraud, hindering an investigation, and record tampering."

"That's a life sentence."

"Mrs. Schmidt was a menace. It's not a loss."

A knock on the door stopped the conversation. She looked like one of the first-year (or Ruby supposed now second) trainees. "The head doc's here, sir. Also, someone claiming to be that one's next of kin. A Bunny Williams? Wants to give a statement."

"Send Mrs. Williams to Agent Frangipane, Lovato. I'm finished. The doctor can come back anytime." Ross stood up. "I'd say take care of yourself, but."

"It's nice to meet you," the trainee chirped. "You're a legend."

"I'm a fucking traitor. Watch what you say or you might be the next moron sitting on the wrong side of the table."

The trainee gasped and scurried away.

\--------------------------------------

"What the hell were you thinking?" Benzedrine demanded as the heartbroken trio pulled up and exited the car. "Wait, where's Pockets?"

Alien broke into sobs again.

"Fuck."

"We think she may have been hoping for it to go like this." Mad-Gear wouldn't look at any of the assembled Killjoys. "We won't know for certain until SCARECROW files the paperwork."

"Will we get the body?"

Mad-Gear shrugged.

"Alright. I better tell Horseshoe as soon as he's finished with the class he's teaching." Benzedrine walked off.

Sandman watched him go. "You said she might have been _hoping_ to get caught?"

Alien sniffed.

Mad-Gear explained what happened in the hospital room and the conclusion they had drawn in the car flatly.

"That is a balsy way to go."

Life at Camp Youngblood continued on, quietly. Alien got most of their stuff replaced, including a blaster with a safety. This time, they didn't remove it. They took Pockets' place in the Weathervanes without prompting. When not working, Alien developed a slight obsession with trying to get information out of Mad-Gear about Pockets' death. He hadn't found anything.

\-------------------------------------

Like Mad-Gear, the BLInd doctor determined that Ruby had a death wish. Instead of sentencing her to prison or death, she was to undergo a an experimental procedure. They were going to implant a mood stabiliser. Once recovered from the operation, she would then be evaluated for an unpaid position at BLInd.

Benetton Williams showed up in her hospital room a few days after the operation with a small white bag. "Hi. Don't kill me?"

"The microchip in my head won't let me."

"I brought gifts." He sat down and put the bag within her reach. "I had to check everything with your caseworker at Social Services first."

Pockets pulled out three hats, one white, one black, and the third a drab grey.

"It's going to take some time for your hair to grow out. Although I don't understand why they shaved it all."

"I asked them to." Ruby put one of hats on, wincing as it caught on the bandage.

Bene jumped up and adjusted it. "There. How are you feeling?"

Ruby shrugged. "They said it was take the chip six weeks to get a feel for me and start working. It'll take longer for the incision to heal."

He took her hand and started rubbing the star tattooed on her wrist. "Are you going to miss these?"

"Social Services hasn't decided whether they'll be removed or not." Ruby pulled her hand away. "Thank you for the hats but what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I'm on break and I wanted to apologise. If I knew my actions would lead to this, I wouldn't have done it."

"Well, hindsight is 20/20. Go away. I don't want this stupid chip to think my default setting is pissed off."

Bene jammed his hands into the pockets of his white scrub pants. "I work a couple of floors down, in labour and delivery. If you need me, I'll come running."

Neither of them mentioned the small ring box at the bottom of the bag.


	15. The Same, Yet Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Part 2:** Over a year has passed since our heroes met and got separated. It hasn't been an easy year. From finding love to science experiments to general survival. But Fate has a funny way of bringing people together again.

** Part 2: A Year Later **

Pockets had probably been dead longer than Alien had known her, yet their mind kept going back to her. Especially since the Weathervanes had fractured. Alien found themselves reluctantly in a group of Killjoys closer to their age. None of them were legal so Benzedrine didn't let them do much.

Sand Snake, a ginger with a passion for pastels, was sitting on the top of a picnic table, swinging their legs. "What's got you so glum, E.T.?"

"It's nothing," Alien answered. They were absentmindedly holding their blaster, rubbing their thumb across the safety.

"Didn't you say we had to careful about that part of the blaster?" Greg, who hadn't yet selected his name yet, asked. His eyes were wide.

Alien sighed and slid their blaster into the pocket of their cargo pants. "Sorry. You're right. I got distracted."

Seagull, the last member of their not-quite team, adjusted her glasses. "You don't have to hang out with us so much. Everyone knows you prefer hanging out with Mad-Gear and Missile Kid."

As if Seagull's words had summoned him, Missile Kid streaked across the sand to them. "Alien, you need to come to the basement."

Alien got up from the bench. "What's going on?" For it being the day it was, Missile Kid smiling like that made no sense.

"She's alive!"

"What?" No one had died since Pockets. It had been a lucky year.

"Tyler--Sorry, Mad-Gear, he found a newspaper article. It came out a couple hours ago. There's a picture."

Alien beat him to the basement--and they took the stairs. "Show me!"

Mad-Gear pulled up the image on his biggest screen. It looked like a wedding photo. Pockets, hair shaved short enough for the curl to barely show, leaned heavily on a dark-skinned man. According to the caption, it was Benetton Williams. He had love in his eyes.

Alien only knew it was Pockets because all three of her tattoos were there. Saturn, the star, and the crescent moon.

"I don't understand."

"Rehabilitation of Former Killjoy Captive Ruby Trohman Deemed Success," Mad-Gear read. "It's a bunch of BLInd nonsense really. But she's alive."

"Why hasn't she at least reached out to us?"

Mad-Gear scrolled down. "She has some sort of experimental chip in her head. Here, listen."

The audio didn't sound like Pockets. She sounded less angry, for one thing. Her voice sounded musical.

"When I reached out to the Killjoys, I was depressed and incapable of rational behaviour. They target people who are unhinged. Being chosen for an implant instead of imprisonment saved my life. I've been a full-fledged SCARECROW for nine weeks. I would have never let Bene, my new husband, back into my life. The implant has made me a productive member of society. It still needs testing but hopefully BLInd will be able to get to more at risk people soon."

"Fuck."

"Hurricane's trying to get us more information on this chip thing. It was on heavier lock down than the Resurrection Serum."

"She's been alive this entire time." Missile Kid squeezed Alien's shoulder and sat down at another computer.

Files started streaming in. Hurricane had, over the last year, become like a third member of Mad-Gear and Missile Kid's team. Alien had figured out she was she but beyond that, the identity of the hacker inside BLInd was a mystery.

"Is that Pockets' _brain_?" An image had frozen on the screen.

"According to this file, she's the only person with one. So, most likely." Mad-Gear closed it. "I hate to ask, E.T., but can you get Benzedrine and Party Poison? Pockets being SCARECROW again is going to problematic."

\-------------------------------------

Ruby Trohman knew she forgot something important. She had a massive headache coming in and could practically feel the chip working against whatever negative emotion her body wanted her to feel. She whimpered a little.

"You okay?" Bene came up behind her. "Is it a complication?"

"It'll pass." She took one of her pain pills.

"You should see if you can get your next exam pushed up." He stabilised her by putting his hands on her waist.

"George would kill me." Ruby shook her head, thinking of her partner/supervisor. "We have a lead on the young ones."

She meant the youngest Killjoys anyone had seen since the Fab Four came onto the scene. Four of them, two that presented as male and two as female, almost unheard of. The current theory was that they were orphans from Camp Youngblood. "One of them needs their glasses to see."

Ruby's work device chimed. Bene picked it up. "You aren't allowed to touch that," she chided him gently. "Classified information."

"Can you even see clear enough to read it?" Bene read the message aloud. "Hurricane got into your files. Come in ASAP. Sorry to cut your honeymoon a day short. A.F."

"My files or the files _about_ me."

The device chirped.

"Direct quote: There's a picture of your brain involved."

"Oh well. Another day at the office. Brains and hackers." She turned around and kissed Bene's cheek. "Love you."

"You should be going to the neurologist, not the office."

"If George thinks Ash was wrong to call me in, I'll call the doctor. Go visit your mother or something."

When she walked into the office, the older agents started making comments. Most of them would have made her blush and go off a year ago. Now, it they were simply mild annoyances. Of course other people would make comments about sex to the newlywed. Nevermind that Ruby and Bene agreed that that wasn't a part of their relationship.

"What do we have?"

"Hurricane used the PR server this time. Only they inserted something that is deleting the originals and replacing them with this." Ash pulled up the photo. It was a picture of the chip, nestled in her brain. Someone had made it black and white and then placed blood red words over it.

"Humans are not computers," Ruby read, skipping over a swear word. "Hurricane must be working with Mad-Gear again. I recognise my tattoos but what's that last symbol?"

"That's where we come in." George zoomed in on the symbol. It looked like a face, not human, with a pointed chin and big eyes. "It's the same symbol on one of the Young Ones' clothes. The short boy who bleaches his hair."

"E.T. The tagger."

"Yeah."

"Why would they put his symbol on this?"

"I'm not sure yet," Ashley said, distracted. "I'm trying to see if there's something else in the file."

"While you're here, up for some foot work? We need to interview the eye doctors."

"Of course." Ruby headed back toward the exit. "And Lovato, stay away from my desk."

\--------------------------------------

"It says one of the side effects of the chip is memory loss." All of the available Killjoys were sitting in the cafeteria. Mad-Gear was explaining Pockets' situation. "She doesn't remember most of her time with us. They have what they got out of the first interview and that's it."

Doc January, the camp doctor, raised her hand. "Is there a chance the memory loss is part of the chip's intended functions?"

"I don't know. You're more than welcome to look at the files. We don't understand a lot of medical jargon."

"Is she dangerous?"

"We don't know," Mad-Gear said again. "But Hurricane got us both her file and her partner's. Warning, if you were here five or six years ago, you aren't going to like this."

Two scanned images of SCARECROW IDs came up on the projector screen.

"That's Ryan!" The Sun and the Earth exclaimed in unison.

"Fucker got a bowl cut," The Sun added.

"I don't want to know what idiot at BLInd thought pairing them together was a good idea," Benzedrine said. "But can we all agree we're not doing to engage them?"

Alien opened their mouth.

"That includes you."

It wasn't fair. Pockets was Alien's friend. Sure, it may not have been smart to seek her out but it would be nice to see something beyond photographs. They stared at the image from her badge for a good five minutes. Seagull had to nudge them. "Come on," the teenage girl said. "We gotta go."


	16. Memories

"They don't pay me enough for this," George muttered as they ran after the assistant of the eye doctor in the slums.

"They don't pay me at all," Ruby yelled back. "We have to stop her before she gets to the gate."

"How does an old woman run this fast?"

Ruby didn't answer. Instead, she cut down an alley. Then another, back toward. Technically, separating from George might get her in trouble but whatever. "Stop!" she yelled at the woman, drawing her blaster.

"Holy shit!" the woman exclaimed when she turned to find George skidding to a stop behind her.

"Agent Trohman, you are a genius, but don't do that without telling me next time, yeah?"

"Yes, _sir_. Do you want to do the honours?"

George arrested the woman. Ruby had to down another pain pill before she went into take notes on interrogation.

"They came in as a group of three, usually. The new one started coming the last time. They're just kids, three girls and a boy. I see them whenever they notice that one's vision is getting worse." The woman pointed at the picture of the one in glasses. "They have carbons. I didn't realise they were Killjoys until they slipped up and used code names."

"Did you say _three_ of them are girls?"

"I'm pretty sure of it. The new one, the one with short blonde hair, sounds like a girl. They called her both E.T. and Alien. She doesn't talk much."

Ruby was distracted by the look of horror dawning on George's face. "Sir, is everything alright?"

He moved to leave. "Can you finish up here, Trohman? I need to run something by Agent Frangipane."

"Yes, sir." The feeling that she was forgetting something important was back. 

\----------------------------

Missile Kid found Little Alien at that same picnic table. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"She doesn't even remember being Pockets. It was better thinking she was dead. But she looks so happy."

"We don't know how much she's forgotten. She could be acting."

"Yeah, well, Bene isn't."

"Are you _jealous_?" Missile Kid asked.

"No!" Alien tried to sound mad but it came out flat. "Okay, maybe a little. No one has looked at me like that since my parents and sister died. Pockets was close, I think."

Missile Kid made a strange noise.

"What?"

"Nothing. Do you want to talk about it?"

Alien talked. And talked. They had held in a lot over the past four years. From the fire in little shack village they grew up to finding the abandoned house they eventually called home. Finding out it was both safer and emotionally calming to live genderless. Meeting the Killjoys, getting their first binder, Party Poison naming them Little Alien. Three years of relative loneliness. And then, a girl. A girl with too much hair and anger and love and tattoos. It wasn't love. It might not have even been like. But whatever it was, it was amazing.

Missile Kid didn't say a word until they finished. "Thanks for telling me."

"My name was Ellyrn, by the way. Ellyrn Tanner. That's why I've told people to call me E.T."

"That is--Ellryn? Really?" Missile Kid shook his head. "What were your parents thinking?"

"I have no idea. My sister was named Martha."

He pulled Alien into a hug. "We'll get through this, you and me."

\----------------------------------------

Both George and Ashley started acting strange after the arrest of the eye doctor's assistant. Actually, no. The entire _office_ started looking at her funny. After a few weeks of weird looks, she brought it up to her doctor.

"Can the chip cause paranoia?"

"It's not designed to but it could. It's all experimental, remember? I can adjust some of the settings." The doctor smiled. "Now, your husband called me and said you were having headaches?"

"Bene _called_ you?" The flash of anger was brief but it was there. She could barely remember the last time she felt upset--and at Bene of all people. It was gone almost as quickly as it flared.

The doctor watched her reaction carefully. "He also mentioned that you have more holes in your memory."

Ruby shook her head. "It's less that more memories are disappearing and more like I realise that I'm forgetting someone important."

"Someone? This feeling is attached to someone in particular?"

"Yes."

"Well, we're still trying to figure out why the chip causes memory loss in the first place. Would you like me to see if we can take that feeling away?"

Ruby shook her head. "It's fine. Maybe it'll help me remember."

"Alright, let's see what we can do about that pesky paranoia." The doctor put the receiver against her head. "This shouldn't take long."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! Bene's going to narrate part of the next chapter. That'll be fun.


	17. Stupid Comes In All Genders

Bene came home to Pockets sitting on their bed, looking slightly blank. He set his bag down slowly. "Did you go in for an adjustment?"

She nodded and shut her eyes.

He sat down beside her and gently wrapped his arms around her. "The pain passes in a few days, right?"

Instead of relaxing into his touch, she tensed.

He brushed the fuzz on her head. "It's not the pain that's bugging you, is it?"

"I got upset at you. Because you called the doctor. It was only for a few minutes but I felt it."

"Oh, babe. I'm sorry. I didn't know the headaches were expected."

He felt her body shake with her next breath. "You did something, didn't you? Around the time I was arrested."

"You know I'm not allowed to tell you. You were a criminal at the time and the files are sealed."

"It's a yes or no question."

"Ruby, do you really want our first fight to be about something that happened a year ago?" He let her go, so he could look at her.

"It's not our first fucking fight. I know that much. We fought about someone important. Not your mother. Although I think she knows."

Bene watched her talk. Her eye were still shut. She even _sounded_ like she was talking through pain. "Babe, you need to rest. Adjustments take a lot out of you."

"Last time I checked, you weren't named George or Korse. You don't have any right to order me around."

Ruby's anger hadn't been directed at him since the day after her operation. Part of him wondered if the chip was the only reason she had fallen back in love with him. He had counted the memory loss as a blessing at first. Now, with the chip needing a few days to calm her down, he was wondering if was worth it.

"I think you need to spend a few nights with your mother."

He gently cradled her face and brushed a kiss across her lips. "I'm sorry."

He walked toward his mother's one-room apartment. It took considerably longer than it when he was living in the slums. Not that he didn't mind living closer to the hospital. It was just that he risked breaking the city-wide curfew. As a medical professional, he had a pass but he had left it at the apartment. Ruby didn't seem to want him around longer then necessary. He hadn't even been able to change out of his scrubs.

Just as he crossed into the slums, someone blocked his path. The man looked mildly familiar but Bene couldn't place him. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"I'm sorry, but no. A lot of people come into the ED."

"I'm not a former patient. My name is Joseph Trohman."

Bene's eyes went wide. He knew that Battery City had forced Ruby to use ger birth name but he hadn't realised that Thorman knew they were related. "You're my wife's uncle."

"Yep. Is she okay? The BLInd propaganda isn't much help."

"Why do you care? She doesn't remember you."

"I'm not asking for myself. I'm asking for Alien. Do remember them, don't you?"

Guilt hit Bene like a well-aimed punch. Of course he remembered the blue-haired kid he turned into SCARECROW. That's what started this madness. That was the first fight Ruby had forgotten.

Thorman gave him a knowing look. "You fucked up, kid. Big time. How big did you fuck up my niece?"

"I--Why am I talking to you? You're wanted for rebellion."

Trohman smiled. "I can't answer that but let me ask you something. Do you love her or the chip?"

Sirens blared.

\--------------------------------------

"Benzedrine is going to kill us," Greg yelled as they ran from the SCARECROW out building. "We're not even supposed to be in Battery City, let alone raiding SCARECROW."

"Then he shouldn't have insisted we learn to drive." Alien quickly finished tagging the boring metal wall with a purple alien face and Saturn. A flourish of their initials and bam! Time to run. "Or tell Sand Snake a bunch of the blasters were unable to be repaired. Let's go."

"We're going to get confined to camp."

"No we won't." Alien adjusted the bag they had liberated from the evidence section of the warehouse. "We might loose our access to the cars but there are bikes too."

Sand Snake quickly took some of the weapons off them and the entire loot got stored in the back. The three of them closed the hatch in unison and practically slid into the back seat. Seagull floored it.

Alien knew that it was a stupid mission and even stupider to tag it. Greg hadn't been sure of his camera disabling skills. Sand Snake hadn't dressed practically, and Seagull was visibly shaking in the driver's seat.

Alien didn't know what possessed them to plan and execute the mission. It felt like a very Pockets thing to do. Pockets didn't exactly exist at the moment though. Maybe Alien needed a chip controlling their emotions too.

The Young Ones spent the night in Zone 2, sleeping in the car. Alien found themselves crammed in the storage area, half-laying on a crate. As the sun came up, someone knocked on the hatch. Alien startled awake, pointing their blaster at Benzedrine.

"You fucking idiots! Horseshoe got himself caught last night and you couldn't even leave a note?"

The four of them crawled awkwardly out of the car. Seagull was looking down. Sand Snake had turned a shade of red even darker than their usual sunburn. Greg was looking hopelessly at Alien. "I told you so," he whispered.

Benzedrine frowned at the young Killjoys and their cargo. "Do I want to know?"

All but Seagull shared a look and shook their head.

He sighed. "Let's get this back to camp.

\--------------------------------------

Ruby woke up when someone knocked on the apartment door. She walked to the living room, vision blurry. She opened the door, surprised to see George and Ashley looking deadly serious. "I'm off for the day. Again." She tapped her forehead. "The chip."

"We know. This is SCARECROW business." George flashed his badge. Ashley echoed the movement. "Korse arrested Joseph Thorman last night."

"Oh." It had been explained to her--repeatedly--why her name had changed. She didn't feel much. Of course her mother would do something like that. The imaged obsessed woman rarely surprised her. "I didn't realise I had next-of-kin rights." She stepped aside, letting them in.

"We're here because of Bene, actually. He was with him."

"Fuck."

"We're not on the case, because of our connection to you. We're glorified baby sitters. In case some Killjoy is supposed to be visiting you too."

Ruby's head started pounding again. This was her fault for fighting with Bene, wasn't it? Or would have Thorman had come here instead? And where were the other Suitehearts? 

"You look like you need to go back to bed." Ashley directed her toward the bedroom. "George, I got this. Go ahead and make the call that she's safe."

George stepped into the hall.

Before Ruby could do anything, Ashley sat her down in one of the room's chairs. "I have to tell you something, Ruby."

"Okay?"

"Thorman was a distraction. The Young Ones broke into our storage and stole some weapons and ammunition."

"I'm off-duty, Ashley. And I'm the junior agent on the Young Ones' case. George should be telling me this."

"George doesn't know about it yet and Korse doesn't know I know. The footage positively identified one of them as someone you were reportedly close to when you lived in Zones. I wanted you to be prepared in case Korse tries to probe your memories."

"How am I supposed to be prepared for something like that?" Ruby's words slurred. Her head wouldn't stop hurting. It was like she could feel the chip trying to calm her down and her brain trying to fight it. "Fuck, I feel like I'm dying."

"Do you have anything for the pain?" Ashley asked.

"We keep my meds by the kitchen sink." Ruby sat down on the bed as Ashley walked back into the main part of the apartment.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of writing a duo of prequels, one for Little Alien/E.T. and one for Pockets/Ruby. To tell the stories from before they met in detail. Nothing's set in stone but if this get more popular and/or I get writer's block, I'll see.

"Look, son," Ruby's boss leaned across the little table. "You've fucked up. My only three junior agents with a lick a sense are out of commission because of conflict of interest."

Bene had spent the night in an containment cell. Now, he sitting on the bad side of an interrogation table. He hadn't slept well and he was worried about Ruby. "I'm sorry, sir."

"You're _sorry_ , Williams? We lost over 50% of our ammunition stores last night. And the only people who have any clue as to where it went are named Trohman. One isn't talking and the other has a faulty memory. Sound familiar?"

"Ruby had to be reminded her name was Trohman for months. I don't think she has anything to do with this."

"You remember her little friend? The gender-non-conforming one?" Korse didn't wait for Bene's response. "We think that that little girl orchestred this entire thing. You meeting Joseph Trohman, the break-in, everything."

"Tanner couldn't have known Ruby and I were fighting." Bene used the only name for the kid he knew. "So, unless you're implying Trohman got his hands on our address..."

"They have everything. We've had an internal leak for years. They're getting full of themselves and having the Killjoys help them. They were determined to find Agent Trohman's information."

"But why?"

"No matter how innocent her memory loss makes her seem, she was dangerous at one point. That chip's the only reason she isn't on death row."

"I don't know what you mean. What did Ruby do? We rarely use the death penalty."

Korse stayed silent for at least a minute. "She made a fool out of us."

\---------------------------------------

Ruby's hand started shaking as she reached for a couple of mugs. She didn't drink tea anymore but it was a Battery City staple. Any sensible host would have offered, so she did. Reaching for the mugs shouldn't have made her shake.

"Ruby?"

"Here, Trohman. Let me." George came up beside her and grabbed three mugs. "You don't look like you should be handling breakables."

She said it before she could think. "Thanks, Ryan." With it came the image of a group of boys, their faces painted like dolls. "Oh my god."

The mugs hit the counter with a thud. "What did you call me?" George asked softly.

"I don't know."

Ashley walked in-between them. "Hey. It's okay. It's probably one of the memories the chip repressed. You alright, Ross? You look spooked."

"Yeah." George shook himself. "Maybe we can use one of the gentler integration technics to get to the bottom of it."

"It's probably not important," Ruby said.

"You chew the inside of your mouth when you lie." Ashley directed her. "Come on. Sit."

And so they walked through what remained of the memory. A hallway, a discussion, the boys with the painted faces, anger. "I think one of them is dead," Ruby whispered.

"Two," George corrected, sounding firm. "There was a group of Killjoys, probably the same age as The Young Ones, who used face paint instead of masks. Two of them are dead. The other two have changed their appearance enough that SCARECROW doesn't know if they're still active. They called themselves Exclamations. One of the dead ones was named Ryan. It was before our time."

"But why would I connect you to some dead Killjoy from before our time?"

"I don't know. That chip's fucking weird. No offense. I'm glad you're not in prison but..." He shuddered.

Ashley gently touched Ruby's knee. "Is that the first time you've remembered since the operation?"

Ruby shook her head. "Not exactly. It's the reason Ben and I--" A thought stopped her words. She couldn't decide if was a good thing or a bad thing. "What time where Ben and Joseph Trohman arrested?"

"About 7:30."

"That's an hour and a half before curfew." Ruby's mind started going. Her mouth could barely keep up. She ran a hand over her head. "We claim to know every Killjoy's identity but it's all suspicion. Unless he confesses to something or that has a tattoo we can prove is newer than the law against them, we can't hold Trohman. And even if they had broken curfew, Bene didn't do anything wrong. His work pass is on our dresser."

"Ruby..."

"I can site the exact laws in question, if you want. But I was never wrong in training." Where had that come from? Ruby's memory wasn't what it used to be. 

Ashley grabbed her communication device. "I'm going to call Korse. It's good to have that mind of yours back, Ruby."

\--------------------------------------

_Horseshoe should be free in an hour or two--H_

_By chance, is a certain young extraterrestrial with you?_

Alien had fallen asleep against Missile Kid in the computer room. They, Mad-Gear, and the remaining Suitehearts had camped out all night. Hurricane hadn't pulled through until about 9 AM. Alien stretched.

 _where else would they b?_ Mad-Gear answered.

_Good. Ruby's starting to remember. They aren't clear but they're there._

Alien squealed.

And then, in a fluid movement, Missile Kid kissed them.

It was brief and chaste and Alien didn't know what to make of it. "What the hell?" they whispered, deepening their voice again.

"Sorry. Probably not the best time to do that."

"I don't know whether to say get a room or get your own friend," Mad-Gear mumbled.

Alien turned pink. "So." They tried to force themselves to be serious. "How did Horseshoe get out?"

Mad-Gear typed the message.

_Legal loophole. GTG. Working._

The free Suitehearts headed out to try and find Horseshoe. Mad-Gear got out of his desk chair. "I'm getting a snack. You two want anything?"

Alien felt torn. Not in the snack department, but in other ways. They had gone from being in serious trouble, to almost having their best friend back, to kissing a guy they had been crushing on since they were seventeen. While nothing quite beat those confusing weeks after the fire, but this came close.

Clearly embarrassed, Missile Kid booked it out of the room. Alien was left with their thoughts.

Poison appeared about fifteen minutes after Missile Kid left. "Hey, Little. What's up?"

"I don't know."

He settled in beside them. "Well, the entire building is above our heads."

Alien snorted.

"Not in the mood for jokes, then?"

"No."

"Any reason Benzedrine looks like he wants to kill both you and Missile Kid? Excellent job raiding SCARECROW, by the way."

"It was stupid."

"No, it wasn't. The last dumbasses who tried to attack SCARECROW got themselves killed."

"Temporarily. And it wasn't the HQ. It was just their fucking warehouse. The small one in the slums."

"You stole an ammunition charger. That's a big deal."

"I didn't think it through and dragged three others into it. I didn't make sure Greg knew what he was doing. I forgot to tell Sand Snake to wear sensible shoes. Seagull is the only one who didn't fuck up."

"Well, you've learned from your mistakes. Don't go attacking SCARECROW without me." Poison winked and nudged Alien. "Now, the important question. What happened between you and Missile Kid?"

"Um..." Alien felt their face go hot. "hekindamaybekissedme."

"What was that?"

"He kissed me. In front of the Suitehearts and Mad-Gear." Alien hid their face.

"Well, then."

"That's _all_ you want to say?"

"Romance is complicated, Little," Poison said. "It can be hard to watch. A lot of us have lost people we love. Parents, lovers, siblings, even children. I don't have any advice. You and Missile Kid are adults. Try talking to him."

"I talk to him every day."

Poison stood, ruffled Alien's hair, and offered his hand. "Do you want to wait for Horseshoe with the rest of us?"

"Sure." Alien let Poison pull them to their feet.


	19. Author Is Running Out Of Chapter Title Ideas (Also, what fourth wall?)

Ruby approached Korse's office slowly. Ashley had told her Bene was in there. The idea of facing him made her feel a little sick. She knocked on the door.

"Come in, Trohman," Korse ordered.

A chair scrapped against the floor and Bene's familiar arms wrapped around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Ruby cleared her throat. "Not in front of my boss, Ben, love."

Bene stepped back. "Right. Thank you, Supervisor Korse, for letting me wait in your office."

"Be careful the next time you're walking the streets, Mr. Williams. Trohman, I need your badge and blaster. You're off-duty indefinitely."

"Sir?" Ruby's world spun a little. She took her badge off her neck but hesitated to unclip her holster. "I don't understand."

"You're ability to recite laws just lost us someone we've been hunting for years. I was more than prepared to hold him until he confessed."

"Our job is to enforce the laws. That involves keeping them."

"Don't go all Molly Moral on me, Trohman. Blaster, now. Before I decide to hold _you_ for 24 hours."

She placed the grip in his hand.

"And get yourself back to the doctor. That damn chip must need another adjustment."

She didn't know why but Korse's words and demeanour triggered another episode but there it was. An unclear paragraph on a computer screen, the feeling of rope between her hands and glass beneath her feet, and her own voice, flat and lifeless.

_A drugged lower-level agent is better than a high-ranking one with suicidal ideations and sympathies for the other side_

The world blurred and went white.

\-------------------------------------

Alien had to fight the urge to throw a bunch of questions at Horseshoe when he came back. He looked exhausted.

Missile Kid squeezed Alien's hand from his place on the top of the picnic table they were perched on. "I don't think he'd mind you asking."

Alien looked at their intertwined fingers. _We're going to have to talk about this eventually,_ Alien thought. _But not right now. It feels nice like this._

Horseshoe, surprisingly, approached them. "Alien."

"I'm sorry if my team and I are part of the reason you got arrested."

"It's not a big deal. Thanks to Pockets, I wasn't even in there a day."

"You saw Pockets?" Alien's heart started racing. Missile Kid squeezed their hand again. "Is she okay?"

"Not exactly. I talked to Benetton but I only saw Pockets in passing. I have some bad news." Horseshoe looked reluctant. "She was out, on a stretcher. She had some sort of fit."

"Oh, God." Missile Kid pulled his hand away and closed his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Alien whispered.

"Yes. Williams was running along with the on-duty medics. She didn't look good."

"I--Thank you for telling me."

"You deserve to know. I'm guessing Mad-Gear and Hurricane will keep us updated?"

Missile Kid didn't react to the part of the conversation that was directed at him.

"Earth to Missile Kid."

Missile Kid startled and opened his eyes again. "Sorry. And yeah, I suppose so."

It only took a few seconds for Alien to figure out what Missile Kid had been doing. Praying. They had seen both him and Mad-Gear do it at least once a day. Stressful moments. Before eating. At seemingly random moments. Once Horseshoe was gone, they ventured to comment. "You know that won't help, right?"

"I know you don't believe in God, Alien. But I don't believe in luck. We're going to need the extra help. It doesn't matter where it comes from."

"It's been a year and I still think it's fucking weird."

Missile Kid shrugged.

Alien stared at him. _How did I fall in love with someone I barely understand?_ they thought as they sat in comfortable silence.

\----------------------------------------

Watching his wife collapse was not at all like seeing a patient fall. It felt much worse. He could barely react.

Korse crossed his arms. "Well then."

Bene fell to his knees beside Ruby. "Babe. Love. It's me." No response. She had a pulse and was breathing but that was it. "We need to call the hospital."

Korse stayed still.

"Do something!" Bene yelled.

Agent Frangipane appeared beside him. "Stay calm, Williams," she ordered. "Supervisor Korse, I know you don't like Agent Trohman but you answer to Director Cho and _she_ answers to Better Living Industries. The chip is worth more than most of us make in year combined. Make the call, or I'm calling Cho."

Korse picked up his phone.

"You're a doctor, Williams. Tell me what we need to do."

"I'm still in training. I've only just started my ED training." Bene felt like he was going to be sick. Ruby looked pale and clammy.

Frangipane's hand brushed his. He looked away from Ruby. "I know but the response time is fucked. Try pretending she's someone you don't know."

"Okay." He took a couple calming breaths. "We have a 21 year old female..." He rattled through statistics and walked Frangipane through basic diagnosis and stabilisation. Ruby didn't even respond when the paramedics showed up.

"Dr. Williams?" one of them blinked. "What the hell are you doing here? We got a report of a collapsed SCARECROW agent."

"Um.." He blinked. "It's my wife, Jack. And it's Bene. I'm not a doctor yet."

"Oh, the one with the..." Jack tapped his forehead. "Gotcha. How long she been out?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe half an hour." He helped the trio of medics get ger onto the stretcher. "I don't know what's wrong."

"The neurology department is already on stand by." Another medic assured.

As they were running to the ambulance, Bene spotted Joseph Trohman, in the process of being released. "Take care of her," he thought the Killjoy mouthed in his direction.

He spent most of the next few days in the hospital, either by Ruby's bed or working/studying. No one, not even the Better Living Industries doctor would tell him what was wrong. When Agent Frangipane wasn't on duty, she'd take over the vigil. That was the only time he slept.

"We need to get her out of here."

Bene looked blankly at screen of the device Frangipane held out to him. "What?"

"Read it."

He took it.

_CLASSIFIED_

"How did you get this?

"I'll explain in a moment. Read first. You'll want to scroll down to the near the end."

It was Ruby's medical file. Everything from her birth 'biological father unknown', to broken bones, to physicals for SCARECROW. Then, he got to the truly classified information. 'Unexpected damage to the right parietal lobe', 'chip malfunction', 'medically induced coma', and 'waiting for joint board to order termination of experiment'. His stomach dropped. "What do they mean by termination?"

"You know what they mean, Williams." Frangipane checked the hallway and then firmly closed the door. "I have contacts who have contacts in Gem City. BLInd doesn't have any control at their hospital. It'll be tricky, but we can get her there. We're willing to do it without you, but it would be nice to have a doctor on hand. Doc January is actually a nurse and Dr. Death isn't a doctor at all."

"Who fuck is January?"

"Maybe we should start from the beginning. Do you know about the leak called Hurricane?"

"The Killjoy computer hacker."

"You're looking at her."

"You're kidding. You've been with SCARECROW this entire time?" Bene had the feeling he needed to sit down, even though he was already sitting. "Why tell me? And why now?"

"I'm the one who reported Ruby's depression to our trainers. I'm the reason she's dying. Plus, the senior agents figured out I've been bouncing around proxies. They're bound to find out it's closer to home than I was making it look."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I have managed to convince the entirety of SCARECROW in three different cities that four men were cremated and that four vials of a experimental serum are not missing. I have kept it up for a year and a half."

Bene tried to think about what had happened a year and half ago. It hit him only. "The Fab Four are _alive_?"

"You can hide anything with computers. Now, are you going to help save your wife or not?"


	20. We Will Never Be The Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning: There's a Double Dose of Minor Character Death**
> 
>  
> 
> Also, don't kill me.

"What about something like Three?" Sand Snake said. "It's simple."

"But there are four of us. Sort of." Greg looked over at Alien. "Right? The team is all four of us. Things haven't changed now that you're dating Missile Kid?"

"Nope. And you can call yourself whatever you want. You could call yourself 'Salsa Milkshake' and I wouldn't bat an eyelash."

"Don't give him ideas like that!" Seagull and Sand Snake said in unison.

Alien held up their hands. "Okay. Okay. Geez."

Benzedrine walked up to them. "Hey, guys. Have any chaos planned or can we borrow Alien?"

Sand Snake, Seagull, and Greg shared a look. "We're good," Greg said.

Alien stood and adjusted Pocket's bag. "What's this about?"

"We're working on a plan to save Pockets. Missile Kid and Horseshoe both insisted you be in on it."

"Oh, yeah. Of course." Alien's heart rate seemed to skyrocket. "Your office or the basement?"

"My office. We're doing part of our planning over camera and we don't want Hurricane seeing Mad-Gear's set up."

"Hurricane's going to show us her face?" Keeping a reasonable pace felt impossible, even though it wasn't that far of a walk. "Why?"

"SCARECROW's on to her and she and Williams' are the only people that can get her out. She's heavily drugged."

"What? Williams' is in on this?!" Alien froze in the doorway of the office. "No. We can't work with him. He's the reason this whole fucking mess started."

Missile Kid came over from where he was helping Mad-Gear set up a computer. He laced his fingers with hers. "I agree. I don't trust him at all."

"He's supposed to be wherever Hurricane is to. You two can berate him in a second." Mad-Gear finished setting up and pressed a button. "Hurricane, can you hear us?"

"Loud and clear."

 _No._ Alien tried to explain away the familiarity. Time. Faulty memory. The quality of the speakers. Anything. _I don't believe it._

"I should have our images synced in a second." Mad-Gear moved away from the screen.

"Agent?" Alien's voice cracked. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Hi, Alien."

"Tanner's there?" Another voice Alien didn't particularly care to hear asked. "Can I talk to him, please? Alone, before we start planning this?"

"Who said anything about me wanting to talk to you, Williams? Or have forgotten how you fucked us over?"

Agent Frangipane passed the device they were using to Ruby's dark-skinned husband. Missile Kid squeezed their hand. "It's okay," he whispered. "He can't hurt you."

Alien dropped his hand and then walked to stand in front of the computer. "Who do think you are, Williams?" they demanded, crossing their arms.

"I don't know, Tanner." Whatever camera they were using, Williams must have holding it. The image started to shake. "I honestly don't know."

"I know you've known her for longer than I have, but she was the closest thing I had to a family. You took my best friend." Words Alien didn't know they were repressing came out in a rush. "You took my _sister_. You let us all think she was dead. Me, the uncle she never knew she had, every person who cared about her. You just let BLInd turn her into a lab rat. Do you feel any remorse at all?"

Williams sighed. "Of course."

Alien put on their best 'I don't believe you' expression.

And then, he was crying. "Of course, I regret. I regret it every time I see that scar on her head. Every time I see her face blank. Every time she shakes in her sleep. She forgot the first time I told her I loved her, by the way. It was the first time anyone had said it to her and she forgot. I thought BLInd could fix it. Their chip, their problem but now..."

"But now, what exactly?"

"Even if." The if was loaded. "Even if they removed the chip, Ruby's not going to be the same." Williams held another device up. "I got a good look at her last brain scan and she'd at least have to learn to walk again, if not everything else."

"The doctor Brobeck knows in Gem City says she can help with that," Benzedrine said from over in the corner. "The question is, how do we get Ruby to her? We can't steal a helicopter."

Agent Frangipane appeared behind Williams. "All of Battery City's ambulances are solar powered. A week and a half journey across the Zones won't be a problem."

"It's only that short if you don't stop."

"We don't have time to stop," Williams said firmly. "The longer that chip is in there, the more damage it'll do. It could kill her in a few months, if BLInd doesn't decide to kill her first. You don't have to trust me. You can beat me up or whatever it is you Killjoys do to punish people. I don't care. Please, help me save Ruby. She's the love of my life."

And so the plan was hatched. They got three smuggled medic uniforms. Surprisingly, one of trainees was about Alien's size. The pants only needed hemmed a few inches. The other two got passed around until it was discovered the closest matches were Missile Kid and The Sun. The Sun didn't seem willing at first but Benzedrine torn him a new one.

The stole the ambulance from the charging station outside the gates just as the sun was going down. They approached the hospital in complete darkness of after-curfew.

Alien didn't ask how Williams and Frangipane got Pockets to the supplies loading dock. They just followed Williams' orders on how to stabilise Pockets silently. Pockets, her skin once a healthy Zones' glow, looked inhumanly pale. The scar on her head made Alien's stomach turn.

Williams rubbed Ruby's head and then slipped a hat over it. "I'm sorry."

Alien and Frangipane looked away from the private moment.

"Okay," Williams said finally. "We're good to go."

Alien touched the ear piece that connected them to Missile Kid in the driver's seat. "We're golden."

The ambulance lurched forward.

They sat in silence as the ambulance headed for the nearest gate. Mad-Gear was on hand to get them out.

No one in the back expected the ambulance to come to a jerky stop. "Alien, we have a problem," Missile Kid said. A door opened and then slammed. "The Sun's going to need to back up. Come along to the front."

Alien climbed over Frangipane and out of the ambulance. "Shouldn't be long," they said to Williams as they shut the doors.

The walked around to the front of the ambulance, only to discover The Sun was blaster to blaster with Pockets' partner, Agent Ross. The one that used to be a Killjoy named The Moon.

"Ryan!" The Sun yelled. "You fucking traitor!"

"Hello, Brendon," Agent Ross said coldly. "Oh, and the mysterious Miss Tanner and Mr. Dun too. How nice. Who else is in on this?"

"I am not a Miss." Alien didn't go for their blaster. Another blaster would only make this even more complicated.

"Why, Ryan? I know Brent's death fucked us up but why? Why SCARECROW?"

"It turns out I needed structure. The Cities have laws for a reason, Brendon. If we had come here instead of Camp Youngblood, Brent would still be alive. Don't deny it."

"I loved you and you just walked out on us. No word, no note. We couldn't even find information about you from BLInd."

"Do you know what they do to boys like us in prison, Brendon? I gave them my first name, made it out like had only known you a few weeks, and took what they offered. Now, step aside. My partner is back there and I'd hate to have to explain why she died to her husband."

The click of a blaster's safety was deafening. In a single bolt of red light, The Sun crumbled.

The world moved in slow motion. Alien drew their weapon, disengaged the safety, and pulled the trigger.

Ross joined The Sun on the ground.

Missile Kid jumped out of ambulance. He quickly checked both men--bodies?--and then grabbed Alien's arm. "Alien, babe, we have to go. The blaster fire will attract attention." He gently removed the blaster from her hand. "Come on."

"Did I just?" Alien tried to ask as Missile Kid pulled them into the cab.

"Try not think about it." Missile Kid backed up a little and then took the nearest side street. When they made it to the gate, he floored it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew Alien was going to kill someone by Chapter 3 and that it was going to be Ryan/The Moon/Agent Ross about half way through writing 15. I didn't even tell my friend Sam I was going to do this.


	21. Chapter 21

Bene couldn't help but jump a little at the sound of blaster fire. Two exact shots, one right after the other. He heard the doors of the cab open and close again. "What's going on?"

"I have no idea." Ashley leaned over Ruby's head to slid open the window between the cab and the back. "Missile Kid?"

"I'm going to back up and take another way. There's a roadblock. Is Pockets stable?"

Bene nervously adjusted the IV bag hanging from the ceiling. "Yeah, she's good."

"What happened?" the agent half-demanded.

"Now isn't the best time to talk about it. We need to get to the Outer Zones, fast." He backed the ambulance up and then floored it down an alley.

Bene hoped he didn't get motion sick.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pockets hurt, everywhere. Mostly in her head. She kept her eyes closed as she tried to remember what happened. Her arrest was clear, and the evaluation. The operation came next and then therapy. That's when things went numb. The memories were clear, but the emotions were not there. There were just two spikes of happiness. The day she got her official SCARECROW badge and...

_No._

But there it was, pulled reluctantly to the forefront of her memory. White dress, sweaty palms, a photographer and a journalist, an interview, and I Dos. Ben's hand in hers. Pockets could even feel weight of the rings on her left hand, along with the pull of the IV.

"Fuck!"

The word didn't come out.

"It's okay. It's okay." Something rushed into her veins along with Ben's soothing tones. "We couldn't steal the sedative, just pain killers. You're going to be okay."

"Can she understand us?"

_That sounds an awful lot like Ashley._

"I have no idea but I'm acting like she can."

A surge of terror went through her. She was in an ambulance with Bene and Ashley. They were moving her but to where?

"Tanner, your friend, I don't know if you remember him, is up front with people I'm told called Missile Kid and Dun?" Bene said.

"No," Ashley gently corrected him. "Missile Kid's real name _is_ Dun. The other Killjoy is The Sun."

Wait, they were with the Killjoys? Why? And more importantly, how?

"And you're Hurricane."

"Yes."

_Well, that explains a lot. Damn, I'm idiotic. I should have seen that coming._

The ambulance hit something. Everything bounced.

"Sorry." Missile Kid's voice floated in from somewhere. "This thing wasn't designed for the Zones. We're almost to Camp Youngblood."

"Are we going to stop?"

"We're going to need another driver. Alien's asleep and it's getting hard for me to focus. Mad-Gear is waiting."

"Aren't there three of you up there?"

"No." Missile Kid's voice strained.

"The roadblock?" Ashley asked. The silence worked as the answer. "Oh, Missile Kid. I'm sorry."

"We live dangerous lives, Hurricane. You know that. I just hope." Missile Kid sighed. "Nevermind. Let's get Mad-Gear and get going."

\--------------------------------------

The next ten days were hell. 6 people, one of whom couldn't move, were not meant to live out of an ambulance. They stopped to switch drivers and eat. Bene noticed something seemed off with Tanner but Missile Kid gave him a clear expression of "Don't ask" every time he considered bringing it up.

Between the three of them, Bene, Mad-Gear, and Hurricane figured out how to turn the chip off. "I'm not a neurosurgeon or I'd take it out myself."

The weirdest thing happened on day eight. He and Mad-Gear were in the back with Ruby. Something, probably a mixture of pain and horror, had been keeping Ruby awake for almost 24 hours. Mad-Gear was singing a simple melody to try to soothe her.

"Maybe you should try, Holy Roller."

"What?"

"You don't have to sing. You can hum. She might find your voice more familiar."

"No, I don't mean that. I mean, what did you call me?"

"Sorry. I assumed you were a Killjoy in all but name so I gave you one."

"I'm not a Killjoy. I have nothing against Battery City or Better Living Industries. I'm trying to save my wife. It's Bene."

Mad-Gear gave him a look that spoke volumes but didn't say anything.

Bene had a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending of this chapter doesn't feel quite right but I wasn't sure how to end it.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses for how long his took me to upload. It's been finished for a couple days but I just didn't get around to it.

Alien doesn’t talk much during the drive to Gem City. It’s like they physically can’t bring themselves to speak. Everyone else on their rag tag team seems to know something is wrong but, as far as Alien can tell, no pressures them about it. Hopefully, they’ll think it boils down to worrying about Pockets.

They made their way to Gem City Hospital in the middle of the night. A lady doctor meets them at a side door. “Dr. Williams?” she asks.

“That would be me.” Bene cleared his throat. “But please, it’s Bene. Your patient is my wife. I’m not here as a colleague.”

“Of course.” The doctor surveyed the group huddled around the dusty ambulance. “You know the rules, right? Family only?”

Bene sighs.

The doctor pulls a key from inside her lab coat pocket. “My house is a few blocks away. It’s a townhouse on the corner of 21st and 45th. The rest of you can stay there. I’ve got a couple people on staff who are in on this and can deal with the ambulance.”

Hurricane took the key and nodded once.

Alien turned to follow the rest of them down the street as Pockets was rolled into the hospital. Suddenly, a hand was on their arm.

“You can come in, you know. I told the doctor you were Ruby’s brother.” Bene’s out of breath and trying to smile. “I want you to be there.”

“But I’m not—” Alien’s face grew hot. _If he knew what I did to get us out, he wouldn’t want me in there._ They shook their head.

“Please, Tanner,” the dark-skinned man begged. “I don’t want to have to wait alone.”

“I—Are you sure you want _me_? You actually know Hurricane.”

“I think if Ruby—Pockets—knew what was going on, she’d want you to be there. I’m certain of it. Her relationship with Ashley didn’t—doesn’t—have the same emotional levels yours does. Please, Tanner. If you don’t like it after a couple hours, you can go stay with the others.”

“Williams, I—”

Before they could utter the words, _I killed someone_ Williams spoke.

“I want you to be the first one who knows when she dies, okay? I don’t want you to have to find out from your friends or even me. You deserve to know right when it happens.”

Alien’s blush spread for another reason. Now, they were angry. “When? No. Not when. Fuck it, Williams. If you really think she is going to die, why are we here? Did you think where she dies matters?” _I did not kill someone for Pockets to die._ “We are here to save Pockets’ life. So you need to get your mopey head out of your ass and have hope.”

Williams stood there, dumbstruck.

“If you honestly think Pockets is going to die, you don’t deserve to be waiting in that hospital either.” Alien pointed at the building. “Your fucking _wife_ does not deserve a husband who rides across the Zones only to give up at the end. She deserves better.”

“Tanner, I’m sorry but the brain scans…”

“Don’t Tanner me, mister. You apologise to Pockets when she _wakes_ up. You apologise to her, not me. You apologise for giving up. You apologise for not stopping BLInd sooner. You apologise for marrying her while she had a chip controller her emotions. Screw the brain scans, Pockets will get better. You understand me?”

“Um…”

“I thought so. Now, come on. We don’t have all night.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bene couldn’t believe Tanner’s reaction to his slight up. The kid had stayed quiet the entire ten day drive across the desert. Not even his boyfriend (at least Bene thought they were dating) had gotten him to speak.

And then, one little mistake, and he was all over Bene. Like cockroaches over a crumb. There was enough fury in those statements to make Ruby proud.

Only Ruby wouldn’t have yelled. She would have punched him, said “Don’t talk like that. We crystal?” and moved forward.

Tanner had fallen asleep on one of the sofas in the waiting room when the doctor approached Bene. “We have the chip out, thank God.”

Bene blinked a little at the wording. “What?” 

“Nothing.” Dr. Franklin yawned. “Slip of the tongue. We won’t be sure how much recovery she’ll make until the swelling goes down. We’ve got her sedated again. You’re more than welcome to sit with her, but you might be more comfortable sleeping in actual beds.”

“Thank you, so much.”

Dr. Franklin gave him a ghost of a smile. “It’s not a problem. We take refugees very seriously here. Speaking of, Ruby’s brother might be a problem.”

Bene’s heart dropped.

“I should warn you, I can’t openly do anything if it’s discovered that he is actually her _sister_. I’d like to talk to him about options for hiding it as soon as possible. I’d hate to see him thrown to the wolves at SCARECROW.” 

“I—Thank you. I’ll let him know you need to talk to him. Can I see Ruby now?”

Bene followed the doctor to the small private room where Ruby was recovering. She looked pale and underweight. The bandage on her scalp popped red against her now completely bald head. Bene put his hand over his mouth, fighting back tears.

“She may not look it, but she’s a fighter,” Dr. Franklin said. “We almost lost her a couple times. I’ll give you a few minutes. A nurse should be by soon.”

Bene sat on the little stool and gently took the hand without the IV in it. “Ruby, Tanner said I was supposed to apologise after you woke up, but I don’t know if you will. Or at least if you’ll be you when you do.”

“Joe Trohman asked me if I was in love with you or the chip. I didn’t know then and I don’t know now. I guess we get to find out.” He squeezed her hand. It remained limp. “I don’t know where you found that kid, but I’m glad you did. He—what’s the phrase you use?” Bene chuckled. “Tore me a new one? Anyway, I upset him. I said I thought you were going to die.”

“I bet Momma’s freaking out in Battery City right now. I didn’t tell her we were going to kidnap you. She’d give me a pretty firm talking to for not bringing her along.”

“I don’t know why I’m talking to you. There’s no sign you’re even still in there, or that you can hear me, but Ruby, please. Don’t leave me like this. Don’t leave Tanner and Mad-Gear and Missile Kid. Oh, and Ashley’s here in Gem City too. Would you believe she’s that spy SCARECROW has been after for so long?”

He chuckled again. “Oh, who am I kidding? You probably suspected it all along.”

Someone cleared their throat behind him. “Mind if I cut in, Dr. Williams?”

Bene looked up, surprised to see Tanner, messy haired, standing in the doorway. “Hi, kid.”

“Can you believe this idiot, Pockets?” Tanner said conversationally. “He tried to convince these city folks we’re related. I guess they fell for it, because here I am. You know, I would have kicked him the crotch for you, but I figured you should go at him first.”

Bene didn’t know whether to laugh or wince.

“I can’t see what you see in him. He’s clean-cut, spineless, and smelly. But if you love him, I guess I’ll let him stick around.” Tanner nodded at him once. “We’re going to need to give him a new name, thought. Benetton Williams sounds snobbish.”

Bene adjusted his grip on Ruby’s hand. “Actually, the one with the bands tattooed on his arms dealt with that.”

“Mad-Gear.”

“He called me Holy Roller?”

Tanner nodded, clearing thinking on it. “I like it, but let’s wait for Ruby to wake up before we decide. Come on, city boy, you look dead on your feet. Let’s go find where everyone else is crashing.”


	23. I've got some mixed-bag news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter one massive note

Hi, everyone. August here. You may have noticed there's been some changes. I've added "rough cut" to the title and put this as the last chapter. I love this fic, the characters, everything but I jumped in the soon. I've never liked what I write when I pants it so I'm treating this version as my rough draft. I'm hoping to get more world building and better characterization in the next version. Also probably no pov jumping within chapters and more Bene. Stay tuned.


End file.
